Masked Faces
by Aro
Summary: -COMPLETE- After learning to “control” her powers, Rogue is hoping for a summer fling. Remy LeBeau finally decides it’s time to find ‘the one’ and settle down. While vacationing, what will happen when they cross each other’s path?
1. Prologue

--

**Disclaimer** – I don't own X-Men: Evolution

**A/N** – _After learning to "control" her powers, Rogue is hoping for a summer fling. Remy LeBeau finally decides it's time to find 'the one' and settle down. While vacationing, what will happen when they cross each other's path_? Lovely summary, huh? Ooh, there's a moral to this too. By the end, you'll get it.

I believe Rogue can learn to control her powers. In the second X-Men movie, remember when she kissed the guy who was not Remy? That proves she can _prolong_ (not control all the way) the absorption process. At least, I think it does. Ah, you'll see what I mean as this fic progresses.

If you choose to review, no flames for this; my heart can't take it. I'm taking this writing project seriously. –_tries not to laugh_- Really. I am.

--

"So, what happened to that _belle_ red head you were talkin' to last night?" Henri LeBeau asked his younger adopted brother, Remy, as the said brother walked into the kitchen, his hair messy and his eyes full of sleep.

"Let me tell you." Remy mumbled, getting a mug out from the cupboard, a smirk formed on his lips, "She wasn't a _natural_ red head."

Henri just sighed and turned his attention over to his three-year-old son, Nicolas, whom he was trying to feed breakfast to. "Your _Oncle_ Remy really likes them _femmes_."

Remy just grunted, pouring steaming hot coffee into his mug. "Like Nicolas ain't goin' to be a heartbreaker." Holding his mug in one hand, he walked over and patted the top of his nephew's head.

"There's a difference between havin' a twenty-four hour fling wit' a different fille everyday an' bein' a 'heartbreaker.'" The older Cajun stated firmly, staring down at the plate of scrambled eggs covered in ketchup he was holding.

"There is?"

Henri sighed once more, setting down the small plate in front of his son. "Other than Belladonna, what is the longest time you've gone out with th' same _femme_?"

Thoughtfully scratching his chin while taking a sip from his drink, Remy responded with a shrug, "Few days." He grumbled while taking another sip. Clearing his throat, he proudly stated, "Actually, I dated this wonderful _fille_ wit' purple hair fo' _two_ weeks."

"An' why did you break up wit' that _wonderful fille_?" Henri inquired with a cocked brow as Nicolas dug his small chubby hands into his breakfast.

Remy leaned against the counter, the brass handles on the drawers dug into his lower back, "She wanted a serious relationship." He mumbled, his voice low. "Told 'er I wasn't ready an' didn't want to be confined to one woman."

"You're an idiot."

"_Dieu_ Henri, I love you too." Remy snapped sarcastically, setting his half empty mug on the counter. "Sorry I haven't found th' 'one' yet, like you."

Henri sighed, avoiding eye contact with his younger brother, whose red eyes were now glowing noticeably even in the bright lighting of the room. "You can't jump so easily from _femme_ to _femme_. Settle down fo' once. You're twenty-six years old. Get to know more in a girl than the color of 'er—"

"Young ears." Remy interrupted after clearing his throat. He nodded down, gesturing Nicolas who had parts of egg and ketchup all over his hands, arms and face. "Your _fils_ inherited your table manners I see."

Henri sighed at the sight of his son, "We're not done with this conversation yet."

"I think we are." Remy said, his voice now even more firm than before. "Drop th' issue 'cause everythin' you're sayin' is goin' through one ear an' out th' other."

"That's because of all th' empty space in there." Henri commented, smirking as he gathered his son up in his arms. "Someone needs to learn responsibility, don't they pal?"

"Someone needs to learn to mind their own business." Remy snapped at his brother as he walked out of the kitchen. The Cajun sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Maybe the cranky old man is right.." He made a face, undecided.

--

"This was a bad idea." Rogue mumbled, making a face at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She wore a black bikini that definitely showed off her long slender, yet athletic, legs.

The blue curtain suddenly swished aside and Kitty Pryde peered in, grinning at the sight. "Not bad at all, Rogue. With a little tan you could _so_ pull that off."

Self consciously, Rogue slowly twirled around, her eyes locked on the mirror. She bit down on her lower lip, coming to a stop. "It does look pretty good.." She trailed off, a look of guilt flashed in her eyes. "I just can't. Too much skin." She rubbed her arms, suddenly feeling cold.

"Don't worry about that." Kitty said, her voice low, "You've been great at controlling your powers. You deserve to let loose and spoil yourself."

Rogue ran her hand down her abdomen, glancing nervously in the mirror. "Don't you think it's a little.. _revealin'_?" The top had a heart cut and tied in the back and displayed a hint of cleavage.

"Come on Rogue, you're going to be in San Diego for nearly the whole summer. Just think—you could have a fling with some hot guy there." A grin formed on the brunette's face, "Go crazy and have a great time. It's your vacation from mutant-ville. No one knows you there."

It had been Charles Xavier's idea for the stressed Rogue to go on the much-needed vacation. Rogue had hesitated, not wanting to go alone. That's when Kitty stepped in, saying she'd join Rogue down there in two weeks, after she took her finals for her classes in college.

Rogue suddenly smiled at herself, and loosened up her tensed body. "I think you're right, Kitty. I'm goin' to make sure this will be the best summer I ever had."

"So you're getting the suit?"

Feeling excited for this vacation for the first time, Rogue nodded, "I'm getting' th' bathing suit." '_An' with this bathing suit comes along a whole new Rogue. Watch out San Diego_.'

--

"Do you think I could ever settle down with someone?"

Later that day, Remy leaned against the white doorframe in the kitchen, watching his father read the afternoon paper and eat his ham and cheese hoagie. Jean-Luc chuckled, gently setting down the paper.

"Someday, I suppose. You ain't exactly th' kind to settle down with a girl too long—just long enough to settle down in her bed."

Remy felt sick at the comment, not liking how people saw him. "You've been talkin' to Henri, haven't you?"

Jean-Luc chucked once again, this time more softly. "Son, you remind me of me when I was your age an' younger. You're just afraid of commitment."

"Remy LeBeau? Afraid of—commitment?" Remy wheezed in disbelief. "_Never_."

"Denial. They have a six step program fo' that."

Remy wrinkled up his nose, "You're not funny. I ain't afraid of no commitment. I just haven't found _thee_ girl yet."

"And with your reputation 'round here, you're not." Mercy, his sister-in-law, teased walking past him, ready to wash the dishes from breakfast. Her large, round stomach reminded him that in about three months, a new LeBeau would join the family. A longing feeling for his own family tugged at his heart, knowing Henri was a year older than him when Nicolas was born.

"He's just goin' to end up old an' lonely." Henri teased, walking into the kitchen, his arms set over his chest. Remy just shot him a look. "I'm kiddin'. You'll know when you find your soul mate. You jus' got to take off your sunglasses. Find a fille who will like you even with your mutant powers."

"Leave your brother alone." Mercy frowned slightly, starting the water in the sink. She placed her hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm enough. When the water started to get hot, she squirted soup into the dish filled sink. "Anyone who picked by him is a lucky girl."

Henri just cleared his throat, suddenly feeling guilty about the mutant comment. Remy didn't seem bothered by it, but he looked deep in thought. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he took out two tickets. "I asked you 'bout th' red head earlier 'cause I thought you might want to take her.." He trailed off, handing his brother the two tickets. "Mercy an' I bought 'em befo' we found out she was pregnant. She doesn't feel up fo' the trip so you take 'em."

"Why would I want to go to San Diego? What is in San Diego?" Remy asked, glancing down at the tickets, not feeling up to traveling across North America.

"A _belle_ beach." Mercy answered, glancing behind her shoulder at them.

"An' _femmes_ who don't know you." Henri added, roughly setting his hand on Remy's shoulder, "Things are goin' slow 'round here. Why don't you go down?"

"An' this counts fo' my vacation days?"

"But of course." Jean-Luc spoke up, with a grunt, his eyes still skimming the paper in front of him, "Without you, we'll have to bring two extra men to any heists."

"Poor baby. How will you deal?" Remy asked, his voice bitter yet sarcastic. Mercy just bit down on her lower lip and turned her attention back to the dishes. "I think I _will_ go to Sand Dingo." He decided, exhaling deeply, wanting to get away from his family for a while. The Cajun wanted to show them all that he could settle down with a girl. He would indeed show them all.

As the chatter started up again, he nervously glanced down at the tickets, knowing he'd only use one. To get what he wanted he would have to change his ways a little. Boy, would he.

--

Started – 8/16/04 – Around 9 P.M. Heh.

Finished – 8/17/04 -- 8:00:58 P.M.

Revised – -coughs- I didn't bother..


	2. Chapter One

xXx

**XxX separates scenes because ff.n took my pretty lines away. =( By the way, I know absolutely nothing about San Diego, airports and whatnot. Enjoy this knowledge free chapter.**

XxX

"_Psst_, Rogue? Remember what I said, all right? On the first day, get yourself situated, on the second day window shop and on the third day play hard to get and—"

"Kitty, it's four in the mornin'. My plane doesn't leave fo' another _five_ hours." Rogue pulled the covers over her head, "Leave me alone."

Kitty frowned, "But Rogue, we have _so_ much to go over. And I want you to know my cell is always on so call me or text me whenever."

Grumbling something about humanity, death and the law, Rogue blindly reached out from under the covers and after two attempts, managed to grab her cell phone off the nightstand. Movement came from under the covers after her arm slipped back in.

"What are you doing? We do not have time for phone calls, Rogue!" Kitty explained, throwing her arms in the air right as Rogue sat up, the covers spilling out in front of her.

"I'm callin th' authorities to take your dead body away." Rogue growled, her hair messy and a not so thrilled expression set on her face. "I love ya Kit but I love sleep more. Write me notes o' somethin', _all right_?" A vein popped out from her forehead as she narrowed her sleepy eyes at the girl standing in front of her.

Kitty just squeaked, nodding. Her footsteps were quiet as she left the room, phasing through the wall into her room as opposed to using the door and walked to her room one over.

Rogue just sighed, falling back, her hair spilling out onto the pillow. She rolled over, her body tense and a familiar nervous feeling erupted in her stomach. "No." She mumbled, tightly shutting her eyes, "I am not goin' to be nervous. It's jus' a trip." Inhaling deeply through her nose, she rolled her onto her back, her muscles loosening but her mind was not convinced. Her eyes opened a crack, the corner of her lips tugged back a bit, "Th' trip of my life."

XxX

"Who's the girl?"

"Huh?" Remy glanced up, his eyes locking on familiar, warm brown orbs. "No girl, Tante Mattie. Why?" He had been staring up at the sky in deep thought. It was nearing midnight and he was sitting outside on the porch.

In response, she smiled, sitting down next to him, her hands placed neatly on her lap. "Nothin' boy, nothin'. Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

"I'm leavin' th' day after tomorrow."

She cocked a brow, "You leavin' this place?" She asked in disbelief, her voice deepened along with the Southern twang in her voice.

Remy just chuckled, leaning back into chair he was sitting in. "On a so called vacation, yes." Now, he leaned forward, running his hand through his tousled hair. "Not my idea."

"Boy, it's a _vacation_. Back in my day, the word didn't even _exist_. Go have some fun."

"They want me to commit."

"Into what?" She asked, suddenly exasperated.

"A _relationship_." He spat out the words like venom. Tante Mattie chuckled loudly, lightly slapping his knee.

"Is that all?"

Remy sighed, hunching his shoulders forward. He lowered his head, "I jus' don't think I'm ready to settle down."

"'Cause you don't want to get your heart broken." She stated, knowingly, "Don't worry; not all them girls out there are like that nasty Belladonna."

"Try to convince my wonderful _famille_ that I ain't comin' back a new an' engaged _homme_."

Tante Mattie hummed, nodding her head, "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow mornin'." He glanced down at his watch, "'Bout thirteen hours."

"How long will you be gone?"

A smirk curved onto his lips, "As long as it takes."

XxX

"See you in a few weeks." Kitty gave her friend a tight hug as she bid adieu. "Have fun, all right?" Breaking the hug, she reached into the pocket of her windbreaker and pulled out a pack of index cards, a rubber band was placed around them to keep them together. "Here are six cards on what to do and how to do it!" She handed them to a hesitant Rogue admitting, "Read them. I put a lot of effort into making them."

Rogue rolled her eyes, shoving the cards into her own pocket, "I'll be sure to read 'em." She made a mental note to throw them away.

"And you _have_ to call me tonight." Now, Rogue wasn't sure if she was being asked or ordered to.

"Yes, mother." Rogue said, evenly. Her hands now placed on her hips and an annoyed look was planted on her face. "Anythin' else?"

"Yeah!" A light bulb suddenly went off in Kitty's head as she reached into her pocket again and pulled out a slip of paper, "The Prof wanted me to give you the directions to the hotel. He said everything is ready for you."

"I'm overjoyed." Rogue mumbled, her voice low. She glanced down at her luggage and back at Kitty, biting down on her lower lip. Her body was tense as she strained to make out any announcements, preferably announcing when she would be boarding the plane. _'No one knows I'm a mutant there._' The Southerner stared off into space as Kitty spotted a cute boy reading a pamphlet. '_And no one is goin' to find out.' _Determination flashed in her eyes as a voice from overheard announced her flight was now boarding passengers. '_This is **my** summer._'

XxX

"Don't flirt right away."

Remy ignored the so-called advice his brother was trying to give him as he packed his bags.

"An' don't look too desperate."

Remy now hummed a tune as he ignored the so-called advice his brother was trying to give him as he packed his bags.

"An'—_Dieu_—don't use any pick up lines."

Now, Remy felt like his brother was giving him advice for his first junior high school dance. Using his selective hearing, he flat out ignored Henri.

"Act natural. Be yourself."

Remy, now frustrated, slammed down a dark colored shirt. "Be myself? You're standin' there givin' me advice on how _not_ to be me!"

"Well, it's goin' to be hard with—" Henri stopped in mid-sentence, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed.

"I'm a mutant. An' I ain't ashamed of it." Remy stated, narrowing his red eyes at the older Cajun, "But I'll wear sunglasses if it makes you feel better."

Henri just shrugged his shoulders back, now he just felt a little uncomfortable. "You should find yourself a fille who'll like you for your mutant-y powers."

"Think I should mention it to her that I blow up things durin' good sex?"

A smirk found its way onto Henri's lips. "Is that how you rate it these days?" He pondered, "The bigger th' explosion th' better?"

"Well, I surely wouldn't charge somethin' unless it gets borin'." Remy returned his brother's smirk, "Or I'd blow somethin' up to make a getaway from limpville."

"That bad, huh?" The two brothers shared a few silent chuckles together. Henri shook his head, feeling his face heat up. "Hope you meet th' perfect _fille_, Remy."

"One that doesn't mind explosions in bed?" Remy asked, playing out the old joke. Henri just patted his shoulder and made his way out of the room, "Hey—I didn't mean _those_ explosions!" He called after him, laughter shining through his words. Remy repeated the words to himself as he resumed to what he had been doing, "This is goin' to be **my** summer." He decided with determination for the future.

XxX

The plane ride had been simple. Not once did Rogue ask for a package of peanuts. She just sat there and read. Not the index cards Kitty had provided her with but a romance novel that was thicker than the stick shoved up Cyclops' ass.

After what seemed like eternally, they arrived at an airport in San Diego. A nervous fluttering erupted in Rogue's stomach as the stewardess announced they arrived safely and could now unbuckle their seatbelts. She kept remembering that she was alone here—and this was her first 'alone' trip. Well, until Kitty came over in a few weeks.

Clad in boots, her black skirt and her black tanktop, she got out of her seat when it was announced they could leave. Knowing her usual outfit was without black leggings, the sheer green shirt and spiked collar, she felt naked. Her legs left wobbly as she walked down the aisle, having people elbow her and gently bump her.

Walking into the airport, she looked around, half expecting to see a familiar face; she didn't. After picking up her luggage, she looked around for the exit, hoping to call for a cab and to her to her hotel to relax. Spotting the sign, she quickly hurried off, only to have someone walk into her. Stumbling back she snapped, "Asshole."

The guy stumbled back, also, surprised, "Bitch." He shot back, and without giving her a glance, he walked off.

"Well, that's a sure sign this is goin' to be a great vacation."

XxX

It was a long boring plane ride for Remy, for he had absolutely nothing to do, and the in-flight movie of some talking animal Disney movie didn't entertain him for long.

"Peanuts!" He called out, grabbing a stewardess's arm as she passed. She shot him an annoyed look, "Please?" He tried, giving her his best charming smile. She just smiled, nodded and walked off in search of peanuts. Remy then mentally waved his finger at himself, "You need to stop doin' that LeBeau." He reminded himself out loud, earning a weird look from the woman sitting behind him. "No flirtin'." He mumbled, this time in a lower voice. He blinked, not feeling quite right. "_Why_?"

Oh dear, what he losing his mind?

Maybe not but his family was.

"Some flirtin' is all right then." He decided, starting to feel confident. "That's right."

The people sitting near him thought he was indeed a madman. Especially when he talked to himself in French.

"French bastard." Someone mumbled right as there was an announcement to buckle his or her seatbelts for landing.

Remy just sunk back deeper into his seat as he did as ordered. Why was he so worried about what his family wanted? He made a face, knowing they probably wanted him to do this to get over Belladonna, who he had nearly married. He thought he was over Bella while his family thought he was in denial about that since Bella had left him at the alter. He was rather thankful of that—he loved Bella but wasn't _in_ love with that bleached teeth psychopathic blonde.

Time seemed to pass extra slowly as they got off the plane and entered the airport. He then realized how badly this vacation was planned and how he supposedly had some great expectations here in San Diego.

After receiving his luggage, he wandered around for a while, and then decided that he was tired and wanted to get to the hotel for sleep. On his way out, he realized he was missing a small duffel bag—he had brought three small things of luggage and now he realize he was only holding two. Turning around, he was run into by a girl. Remy just caught a glimmer of her white fringes as she snapped, "Asshole," with a scowl on her face.

Continuing walking, he shot back, "Bitch," over his shoulder, not liking the attitude in this place. "Well," He mumbled to himself, "This is startin' out well."

XxX

Ack. Pretty much a boring chapter—I was too anxious to start the next chapter. Oh, well.

Thank you reviewers for your kind words. =)


	3. Chapter 2

xXx

**Aw, cries thank you all who read and reviewed! Whenever I got writer's block, I resorted back to the reviews and although they didn't cure my writer's block write away, they did make me feel happy and loved.**

**Aside from you lovely people, I recycled Cody from Evo because I need to use him for one little thing in a future chapter. So, other than for that part later, this will be his last cameo. Because of this, Rogue never met him before, all right? Good.**

**Also, this isn't much of an interesting chapter. Sorry. Give it another chapter and it will start to pick up. I could be lying. scratches chin We'll see.. **

**Enjoy this short chapter! **

XXx

Rogue walked down the beach, enjoying the feeling of the warm sand against the bare soles of her feet. Never had she felt so at peace. Clad in only a pair of jean shorts and a thin white t-shirt, she felt free from her usual layers of clothes. Bending down, she picked up a handful of sand and watched with an amused expression as the sand escaped from between her fingers.

"I think I'm goin' to like it here." She decided with a smile as she wiped her palms on the back pockets of her jeans. Closing her eyes, inhaled deeply through her nose as a breeze passed and her toes dug into the sand. "Hmm." Sliding her hands into the deep pockets of her jeans, she pulled out the index card Kitty had given her. Rogue sat down in the sand, her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, her heel dug into the wet sand as waves splashed forward, taunting her warm flesh with its icy cold waters. "Day one," She read out loud, rolling her eyes at the notes that were written in pink ink, "Relaxation." She nodded at that in agreement, "All right, I could go for that."

"Go fo' what?" Surprised, Rogue glanced behind her shoulder to see a man about her age standing a few feet away. He was kind of cute with his blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, she noted, getting to her feet. "Sorry if I scared you." There was a slight Southern accent in his voice.

"It's f-fine." She stated with a small smile as she shoved the cards back into her pocket. Small waves came in and then back, leaving her feet buried underneath wet sand. Rogue then glanced down at the time on her watch, seeing that it was now nearing three in the A.M., remembering that the resort she was staying at owned the part of the beach it was located on and didn't close up the beach area. "I was jus' readin' somethin'."

"South?" He suddenly asked curtly, a wide friendly smile tugged back on his lips. When her brows arched up, he chuckled, "Are you from th' South?"

Blowing strands of white hair out from her face, she replied, "No." It took willpower not to smile at her blunt lie. Yeah, like her accent wouldn't give it away, and while realizing that, she made a face, "Well, yeah but I haven't been back in Mississippi in years."

His eyes seemed to light up, "Where in Mississippi?" In a way, he reminded Rogue of a puppy dog.

"Caldecott." She answered simply, her hands now placed on her hips. In the back of her mind, old memories from the said place stirred around.

"Really?" He asked, eagerly, taking a step forward. Rogue snickered to herself, knowing in her image of him being a dog; his ears would be perked up. "Me too." Chuckling, he scratched the back of his head, "You're th' first one I met here from my neck of th' woods."

Rogue just nodded as she walked forward, out of the damp sand that covered and surrounded her, "I'm a mite tired so I think I'm goin' to—"

He put up his hands, his palms facing her, "Say no more." His friendly smile never left his face, "Can I get your name, at least?"

Something snapped in Rogue as she reached out, touching the collar of his shirt, "You're goin' to have to earn that information," She had stated with a flirtatious smile, which masked her racing pulse.

"Well, Mystery Woman, my name is Cody." Locking his eyes on hers, he reached up, to perhaps cup her chin and to feel her skin, which looked soft and had a pale porcelain look to it.

Rogue just stepped away from him before he could touch her delicate skin, "See you later, sugah." She whispered with a wink as a breeze passed them.

Cody just stared after her with a satisfied look on his face. "Wow." He admitted, impressed as she disappeared into the hotel.

Rogue let out a strange laugh as she walked into the hotel, her heart pounded against her ribcage, "Wow." She admitted, wiping the sand off her feet, "That was new." Her face was now flushed as she made her way back to her room. She was The Rogue: The Untouchable Goth. Never had she done that before. A proud smile was set upon her lips, as she was satisfied with herself. '_I feel like a new person_.' Using a cardkey, she opened the door to her room, '_But never have I felt so… naked_.' Her smile seemed to fade as she went over a mental image of herself—her make-up free face and her clothing—or in her case, there lack of—it all just felt differently to her.

And quite frankly, she liked it.

xXx

Remy LeBeau was not having a good day. First, he lost his passport, then found out his luggage was lost, so he had to go to the lost luggage department where everyone was in _such_ a great mood. He ended up getting his luggage, which had gotten its tags ripped off, and then he realized he had no idea where he was going.

After a short phone call with his brother, he got directions to a 'great hotel,' as Henri had put it saying it had a, 'great bar,' and, '_belle femmes_.' By then, Remy had heard enough and hung up while Henri continued to go on and on about this and that.

Remy collapsed onto his bed the minute he got into his room. It was a fairly sized room but all that mattered was the full sized bed. His luggage and sunglasses were dropped carelessly to the ground when he had entered the room and looked around.

He rolled over onto his back and sighed, "Well, this is jus' too damn excitin' fo' me." He ran his hands down his abdomen, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. "After I get some sleep, I think I'm goin' to go out an' have some fun." He decided, staring up at the ceiling. He continued to stare up at the ceiling, no feeling of sleep passed through him. His eyes wouldn't even close, "Well," He declared, drawing out the word, "This is fun." Apparently Remy doesn't like lying in bed awake unless there's a woman next to him.

However, after so long, his eyelids shut and he slipped into a restless slumber.

A few short hours later, he woke up to a dark room. Remy sat up immediately, forgetting for a split second where he was. He felt slightly damp from the humid room, remembering that he had never turned on the air conditioner for his area. Feeling slightly more exhausted then he had before, he pulled himself up and turned on the air conditioner. After he felt the cool breeze escape from the filters, he decided to go get some ice for the soda he had packed with him.

He wandered out into the hallway; his footsteps quiet for he did not want to wake the sleeping guests. Yes, our dear Cajun was indeed considerate. Besides, he felt he didn't belong there and acted like he was sneaking out of a prison, preparing to get caught at any given second.

Turning the corner, he collided into someone. He stumbled back surprised, barely getting a glimpse at the person as they watched off, mumbling something. He turned his back, not wanting to reveal his demon-like eyes. Staring at the wall, he squinted at the familiar voice and his eyes widened when he remembered the girl with the white striped hair who had called him an asshole at the airport.

"Hey!" He called out, turning around, finding it way too coincidental to bump into the same girl twice. Remy knew it had to mean something. Unfortunately for him, the girl was already gone, and perhaps she had already gotten to her room. Feeling defeated by fate, he shrugged his shoulders, forgetting about it.

Suddenly, something white caught his eye. He bent down, picking up a small white piece of paper. He inspected it, making a face at the words, '—_And remember: Do not fall in love_,' sprawled across, written in some sort of pink ink. For whatever purposes, he shoved it into his pocket and went back on his way, as if nothing had happened.

But nothing did happened—right?

xXx

Feeling confident wasn't something Rogue was used to. As she made her way back to her room, her head hung high. She knew most wouldn't understand why she felt so good, but then, most hadn't been handicapped with the ability not to have skin-to-skin contact.

Once again, she slipped the index cards Kitty had provided her with out of her pocket and began to read them again. They were full of crazy rules for her to go by this summer, Rogue just rolled her eyes at them, not taking them serious. As she turned to the last card, her body came to a halt when it walked into something.

No—someone. Caught off balance, she stumbled sideways and cursed at the guy, who just turned his back to her. She made a face at him as she quickly walked a few feet further, and got into her room.

"People here are so rude." Rogue mumbled, turning on the light as she lazily threw the white cards into the trash, "Sorry Kit—_my_ summer—_my_ rules." She smiled to herself as she climbed into her bed, "An' tomorrow night, I'm havin' some fun in a bar." Anxiety rumbled in her stomach, as she was excited to let herself go and have _fun_.

It all seemed perfect to her.

But a little too perfect.

Her eyes soon closed from her body being exhausted but the small smile remained on her face.

xXx

Remy walked into the crowded bar, his sunglasses on and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He had tried wearing his infamous trench coat but the weather was too humid and hot. He glanced around the congested room; a familiar glimpse of white caught his eye. In quicker steps, he walked forward, seeing a young woman sitting alone at a table, staring down into a glass of liquor in front of her. A smirk crossed his face as he pulled out the seat in front of her and sat down, instantly remember her, "Well, if it isn't the bitch." He said cheerfully, remembering her as the girl that had ran into him at the airport and just last night.

Her head jerked up and her green eyes flashed with anger, "_What_?" She asked sharply, her voice low.

Uh-oh.

xXx


	4. Chapter Three

XXX 

The bar was rowdy and humid; the thick smell of liquor and cigarette smoke filled the air along with loud laughing and chattering.

Despite the noise surrounding them, the two Southerners were situated in an awkward, uncomfortable silence.

Rogue stared down into her half empty glass of rum, her arm propped up and her chin rested against her palm. With her other hand, she was sliding her finger around the rim of the glass.

Remy still sat across from her, leaning forward on his elbows. He noticed the scowl on her face and the narrowing of her eyes, which to him, wasn't a good sign therefore he did not dare to say anything else. After all, he didn't even know the girl.

"Asshole?" She spoke softly, glancing up at him. Rogue tried hard not to blush as she felt his eyes from the other side of his sunglasses check her out, in a way. She didn't know whether to be flattered or still pissed off about what he had called her.

He let out a small sigh of relief, as he was glad she didn't chuck her glass at him for his horrible style of greeting a stranger—or actually, a lady, at that. "Sorry—I thought you would remember me."

"You thought I'd remember you because we bumped into each other once?" She asked, raising a brow at him. She picked up her glass, taking a sip from it. Remembering how much of a lightweight she was, she glanced back down into the glass, wearily. She didn't want to get tipsy _too_ soon.

"_Twice_." He stated matter-of-factly, as if it would matter to her.

"Ooh, _twice_. Call Guinness, we have a record."

Remy grunted, leaning back, "No wonder you're sittin' here alone."

"I mustn't be doin' that bad if you're still sittin' here." Rogue leaned forward on her elbows, which gave him a small view of cleavage, and lowered her head a little. Her own little sly smile tugged back on her pale pink lips.

Remy cocked a brow at her sudden change of attitude, but went with it, "So, _cherie_, you got a name?" He asked, his eyes trying to figure out her cup size. Half-heartedly, he reminded himself that he wasn't here for any one-night flings.

"I sure do, sugah." She purred, accenting on her Southern twang, "So, _cher_, what name do you go by?" Oddly enough, she felt comfortable sitting there, talking to him as she tried to flirt. Rogue just blamed it on the alcohol as she crossed her legs.

He seemed almost amused by her, "I asked you first."

"You asked me if I _had_ a name. I asked you what name you go by. There's a difference."

Remy wasn't so amused anymore. Not in the mood for games, he told her his first name but left it at that.

"That name suits you." She stated; the expression on her face was thoughtful as she studied his face, trying to figure out what color his eyes were. "But the sunglasses don't."

"By golly, Mystery woman, you run into me once and think you know me?" In his head, he spoke with in a thick Southern accent; therefore he was secretly mocking her, although he liked her soft Southern accent.

"Once? I thought it was twice?" In response to that, and the puzzled look on her face, Remy just smirked. "Don't play with my mind." Rogue stated, defensively, blowing loose strands of limp white hair out from her face. "It ain't nice."

He squinted his demonic eyes as he tried to classify her accent. "Where did you fly here from?"

"New York," She answered simply, a sly smile still remained on her lips. "This ain't really a New York accent, is it?" Uncrossing her eyes, she smoothed out her skirt, liking the feel of the thin, soft, cloth material against the palms of her hands. "Been livin' there for about ten years."

"Why'd you move there in the first place?"

Her heart felt like it stopped as she nearly choked on her own saliva. "School." She managed to mumble, taking a sip from her drink. "So, are we goin' to play twenty questions all night long?" There was a sigh of slight annoyance in her voice. "Or is there somethin' you want?" Rogue asked, her voice soft and low despite the anxiety swirling around inside of her. '_He's handsome_.' She mentally noted, her cheeks the slightest shade of pink, '_I shouldn't let him get away_.'

"A guy can't approach a _fille_ in a bar without wantin' somethin'?" Remy asked with a cocked brow, feigning to be insulted.

"A guy can't approach a gal sittin' in a bar and call her a _bitch_." That was some good material she had, and she wasn't letting it go. Besides, she could tell he was slightly embarrassed by it, which pleased her. '_I wasn't that offended by it. I've been called worse back in Bayville but that was for bein' a mutant. If this guy gets borin' I can just tell him that and he'll probably go runnin'._'

"I guess I'll have to work on my social skills, no?" Standing up, he pulled his chair in and hesitated.

"Leavin' so soon?" Rogue asked with a blank expression, which made it hard to determine whether or not she was disappointed.

"You can't get rid of me that easily, _cherie_. I'm goin' to go order a drink."

"See if you bumped into the bartender twice, maybe the person will give you a free drink since y'all are buddies then."

Remy just rolled his eyes and walked off. Rogue relaxed into her seat, feeling goosebumps rise on her arms. He returned in less than two minutes, a filled wine glass in his hand.

Rogue just grasped her glass, noting that it was getting warm. When he sat down, her eyes locked on his face. Without even thinking, she reached out and gently cupped the side of his face. His flesh felt warm and sticky to the touch, yet smooth from a recent and close shave as she caressed it with her thumb.

He slowly reached up, craving more of her touch and nearly groaned when she pulled away, her face flushed.

"Sorry," She apologized, suddenly embarrsed, breathless. Picking up her drink, she quickly downed the rest, "Sorry again but I have to go make a phone call—and do stuff." Her voice faltered.

"Maybe we'll bump into each other again." He stood up at the same time as her, extending his hand.

Rogue just said maybe, and winked at him. When she turned around, he gently grabbed her shoulder.

"Aren't you goin' to tell me your name?"

"When you take off those sunglasses." She teased, shrugging off his hand, "See you later, sugah."

'_Not if I see you first_,' He added silently, his eyes glued to her as she walked out of the crowded and noisy bar. '_I like her_,' He decided, smirking, '_First time in a while I've talked to a fille and didn't leave the bar with her_.' Feeling pleased with himself, he sat down to finish off his choice of wine.

XXX 

"Rogue? Your speech is kind of slurring—were you drinking alcohol?"

"Jean, just get me Kitty." Rogue was lying on the floor of her hotel room, her legs propped up on the bed and her pillow placed behind her head. "And no, I was drinkin' apple juice. The proof for that stuff is off the charts."

Jean said something about appreciating and sarcasm, but the two words were probably not used in that order. Rogue just ignored her and found her mind drifting off to that guy, Remy, whom she met in the airport, in the hallway and in the bar. She was brought back to reality when she heard a squeal from the other end.

"Rogue!"

"Kitty." Rogue mumbled, wincing, her voice lacking any enthusiasm.

She could almost sense Kitty's sudden frown. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin' is wrong."

"You're talking funny. Are you drunk?"

"Kitty." She groaned, slapping her forehead. "I ain't drunk. I just wanted to tell you I ran into this guy at the airport—"

"Did you apologize?"

Rogue paused, "What?"

"For running into him, Rogue. How rude. Did you even say anything?"

"Yeah, I called him an asshole."

"Rogue!"

"Well, he called me a bitch!" Rogue laughed at the childish conversation but that might have been the side effects (or just being wasted) from the liquor she had been drinking. "I ran into him again in the hallway and just an hour ago—in a bar."

"So you were drinking!" Kitty teased, knowing her friend was old enough but she didn't care. "Is he cute? How old is he? What's his sign?"

"He's.." Rogue bit down on her lower lip, "Handsome." She felt her cheeks get warm. "Kit, this is goin' to be a damn good summer if he stays here."

From the other end, Kitty was grinning ear to ear, "So you found your summer guy?"

Rogue nodded, smiling, feeling pleased with herself, "I think I have, Kit."

XXX 

"Henri? Why the hell are you callin' me up at six A.M.?" Much later that night, Remy was awoken by the shrilling sounds of his telephone, which had been turned on high. He wasn't so pleased to hear his brother on the opposite end.

"It's not six A.M."

"In California, it's six A.M."

There was a long pause. "Good night, Remy."

"Good _mornin'_ Henri." Remy growled into the receiver. "Tell Mercy, Mattie and Jean-Luc I said don't call me unless it's an emergency. When I have somethin' to tell you, I'll call you."

"I just wanted to say have fun." Henri laughed as silence filled the air. "Remy?" He hung up after he heard a snoring sound.

Remy just hung up the phone when he heard Henri mumble a few choice words in French and hang up.

"This is goin' to be a long summer." The Cajun decided, flipping his pillow over so he wouldn't have to sleep in his cold lake of drool. Remembering the mystery girl, a small smile curved onto his lips as he slowly fell into a slumber.

XXX 

**Oh, my god. (_cries_) That took so long to write and there's barely even anything there. =( Sorry. I'll try to update once a week. Now, I'm going to BED! **


	5. Chapter 4

XXX 

"You have soft skin." Remy stroked her cheek, mesmerized by how velvetly smooth it was beneath his caring touch. "It's so addictin', _Cherie_."

"Your touch.." Rogue trailed off, her lips slightly parted as she felt his soft lips against the sensitive skin on her neck. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands through his thick auburn hair, "Don't stop," She whispered, her lower lip quivering as she felt his teeth against the base of her neck.

He hummed softly as he gently kissed her jawbone, her chin, the tip of her nose, and finally, her soft, pink, angelic lips. When his strong arms circled around her small waist, they fell back into the warm sand on the beach.

"Remy." She groaned against his lips, ending the kiss. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "Brown eyes?" She questioned, gazing into his unfamiliar dark brown eyes. A small frowned formed on her lips as she reached out, cupping his chin in her hand. The flesh was rough, as he needed to shave. Uncertainly, she admitted, "I didn't _see_ you with brown eyes."

His expression was blank as his fingertips touched her hand, which was still placed on his chin. "What eyes did you _see_ me with?"

"They aren't you." She admitted, uncertainly, not knowing how to describe what she was thinking. Her eyes remained locked on his. "Somethin' ain't right."

With a slightly confused expression, his mouth opened and a sharp knocking sound erupted from his throat. Rogue's eyes widened as it happened again.

Gasping, Rogue's eyes snapped opened and then she rolled off her bed and landed hard on the carpet, on her forearms and knees. Groaning, she sat on the ground, gathering her thoughts as someone knocked on the door again. "Comin'!" Getting to her feet, she walked over to the door, placing her hand on the brass knob, "Who is it?"

"Room service!" Was the cheerful response she received, "You asked for your lunch to be brought up at noon, ma'am."

A dull pain throbbed in her head, reminding her of the alcohol she had consumed earlier. "Uh, right." Waves of nausea passed through her and she silently vowed never to drink alcohol again. "I'm really not hungry. Take it away—_please_."

The guy who couldn't have been more cheerful said all right and left. Rogue turned around and leaned against the door. "That was a good dream." She sighed, which turned into a yawn. "That was a _damn_ good dream." She shivered; her cheeks pink as she only remember a few parts from her dream, which was already starting to get blurry. Rogue believed she was cursed with a short-term memory that wasn't even selective.

Dragging her feet, she walked over to her bed and collapsed forward, a small smile on her face, despite the headache that was forming. "It's not a dream anymore." She whispered, closing her eyes. "I can make it real." Yawning, she turned around, onto her back, and stretched out, "And I will."

**XXX**

"Remy? Wake up." Remy stirred in his slumber, and cursed, as he wanted more sleep. He swatted away the hand on his shoulder and buried his head into his pillow. "_Remy_." The hand began pulling at his shoulder again.

"_Quoi_?" He snapped, jerking his head up, only to see green eyes staring down at him. "You." He mumbled, breathlessly, surprised to see the woman he had been talking to last night, sitting at the edge of his bed wearing a white nightgown.

"Yes," She smiled, pulling at his arm again, "It's me. Come here, Landon wants to show you somethin'."

"Landon?" He questioned, getting out of bed, his arm lopped through hers. He followed her lead out of the bedroom and down the hall, where he looked around, confused as to where he was.

"Wait here." They stopped outside a room that was at the farthest end of the hallway. She went inside, gently shutting the door behind her. In less than a minute, he called him in.

Remy walked cautiously into the room, only to see that it was a nursery. The woman with the white stripes was sitting on the ground, a baby no more than two stood in front of her, supported by her hands, which were placed carefully on his sides.

"Walk to daddy, Lands." Remy's eyes widened as the small child waddled his way over. Feeling slightly numb, he scooped up the baby in his arms, and looked down at the woman, who still sat there, smiling brightly. He glanced down at the boy in his arms, his eyes stopping at his brilliant green eyes and messy auburn hair. The corners of his lips tugged back into a smile. "He really is growinin', ain't he?"

"Yeah," Remy mumbled, his voice small and barely even heard. Looking up, he noticed she was now standing next to him, her delicate hand set on his arm and a smile set upon her pinks. He stared at her face, studying her luscious lips, wanting to do no more than kiss them. Still holding the boy in his arms, he leaned sideways a little and brought his face in towards her. He could feel her warm breath against his own lips, as he got closer. Just as their lips touched, Remy's eyes popped open and he found that it was only a dream.

He lay there silently, and didn't move an inch. He just stared up at the white ceiling, narrowing his eyes in on it as he mentally cursed at his dream. Finally, after a few minutes, he let out a sigh that was combined with a groan and hand his fingers through his wild mane of hair, declaring, "My mind censors my dream, makin' it G rated." Despite that, he smiled as he thought about the mystery woman. He took his dream as a sign, as if it were fate, as he thought their little bump in meetings were. "I have to ask her out," He said out loud to himself, sitting up, "And I think I will."

**XXX**

'_I hate kids_.' Rogue thought miserably to herself as for the second time she was hit with a beach ball. She was sitting on the beach, her headphones on and music lightly poured into her ears as she read a book in the shade from a lifeguard tower. She set down the book and looked around for the perpetrator who had hit her with the ball.

"Sorry ma'am!" A kid said, not sounding too sorry as he laughed and grabbed the beach ball, and then ran off with his friends.

'_Ma'am? I ain't no ma'am_.' She growled to herself as she picked up her book. '_I'm a young woman_. _People these days are drivin' me to an early midlife crisis_.' Rogue wasn't happy to begin with—her skin was pale and sunburned easily. Before going out in jogging pants and an oversized t-shirt, she heavily applied sun block. Sighing, she stretched out her legs and dug her toes into the sand, '_I should try out my new bathing suit later. Kit's goin' to make me wear it when she gets here anyway._'

It was another humid and crowded day. Rogue was still adjusting to crowds but being more trusting and not fearing crowds of people and accidental skin-to-skin contact had been helpful to helping to maintain her powers from absorbing so quickly.

Not feeling interested in her book any longer, she glanced up and looked around for a familiar face, preferably Remy's, although she wouldn't admit it to herself. She was still Rogue and there was no way she was going to act all boy crazy like a certain Miss Katherine Pryde.

"Hey, look out!" The warning came too late, as a inflated ball collided into Rogue's head for the third and final time. The boy and his friends laughed, declaring that they had warned her.

Rogue growled, her left eye twitching. '_This isn't worth it. All I am attractin' right now is pre-adolescent boys_.' Picking up her book, Walkman, and towel, she stalked back into the hotel, in a not so chummy mood.

Knowing that she'd have to run into Remy sooner or later, as he was on the same floor as her, Rogue sat down in the hallway, near the corner where they had bumped into each other for the second time.

'_Well, this is great, Rogue—if you want to look desperate_.' She silently scorned herself but shrugged it off, suddenly feeling as if she couldn't care less about what Remy would think, as he didn't even know her. Rogue opened her book, near the middle, and stared down hard, as if she were reading. '_I wonder what it's like to seduce someone_..' Her cheeks burned just at the thought.

Stretched out her legs in front of her, she leaned back against the wall, a dreamy smile imprinted on her face. 'I wonder if—' Her thoughts were cut off when someone turned the corner and unexpectedly tripped over her legs, frightening her more than the guy who had stumbled over her legs.

"You." Rogue gasped, white strands of hair in her eyes as she stared at Remy LeBeau who was on his hands and knees next to her legs. Her stomach fluttered at the surprised smirk on his handsome face. Setting her book down neatly in her lap, she calmly leaned forward, a small sly smile pressed onto her lips, "So, what's _up_?"

**XXX**

"_Dieu_—what a close shave." Remy complimented himself on his excellent shave as he ran his fingers over the shaved area that was smooth to the touch. "Not bad, Remy. Not bad at all." Proud of himself, he set down his razor on the sink. Glancing into the mirror, he found his crimson red eyes staring back at him. Grimacing, he slipped on his sunglasses, ready to start the day.

Clad in jeans and a black t-shirt he left his hotel room, feeling in a slightly better mood than he had been in when he got to San Diego and before he left.

Remy's mission for the day was to find the girl with the white stripes, and ask her out. Never had he been so anxious to ask out a girl. There was a strange feeling in the pit of the stomach as he realized that there was a chance he might not see her, brushing that feeling off, he told himself that if he saw her, it was meant to be, the date at least, and if he didn't see her, then it wasn't.

Smirking, he turned the corner, only to hit something and stumbled forward. Gravity pulled him down, as to where he fell hard on his elbows and knees. Anger flared in his veins as he gritted his teeth and turned his head to see what had caused him to trip.

Needless to say, his heart skipped a beat when he saw familiar surprised green eyes staring into his covered eyes.

"You." She stated, her voice emotionless. She leaned forward against her arms, a smile planted on her face, "So, what's _up_?"

He just turned around so that he was sitting on his bottom instead of sitting on all fours. "Well, if it ain't th' mystery woman."

She rolled her eyes, feeling slightly flattered, "Nice to see you too, _sugah_." She mentally cursed at herself for what she was wearing; knowing it probably didn't look too appealing.

Cutting to the chase, he asked, "You doin' anythin' tonight?" He scooted over, his shoulder brushed past the wall.

"No plans _as of yet_." She declared, trying to remember if Kitty said anything about playing hard to get, as if that mattered, she decided that she wouldn't reject an offer, especially from Remy.

"Think you might like to have dinner with a lonely Cajun?" He asked, partly surprised that he wasn't kissing her hand, or flirting, as he would have done to any other woman he was interested in.

"Sure. If you think you could survive a dinner date with me." She reached over, running her index finger down the side of his face. Rogue got to her feet, her hands on her hips, "I guess I'll see you tonight—_asshole_."

Remy smirked, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "When do I get to learn your name?"

"When you earn it." With a wink, she picked up her items, and walked to her hotel room, feeling satisfied and excited at the same thing.

Tonight would surely be an eventful night.

**XXX**

**Thank you all for reviewing. n.n You're all such loving people!**

**I hope you'll all still be as loving by the end of this fic**.


	6. Chapter Five

XXX 

"Hold on. I'm comin'!" Remy shouted, aggravated, bursting out of the bathroom, his hair dripping wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. He wasn't exactly pleased to have his shower interrupted by someone knocking on the door to his hotel room. Grabbing his sunglasses, he slid them on and then he opened the door, right as the person knocked again, "What are _you_ doin' here?"

Rogue stood in the doorway, leaning against the white frame. She cocked a brow at him, tilting her head to the side, as she looked him over, from toe to head, "Nice to see you again too, sugah." She stated, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear as a smirked at the sight.

His heart seemed to sink, knowing lately he wasn't making the best impressions, "Sorry _cherie_, I was in the middle of—"

"Showerin'?" She guessed, smiling sweetly as she reached up, brushing her thumb against a droplet on his forehead, "Sorry, I seem to have the worse timin' although—" She winked, retracting her arm as her thumb rubbed against the side of her index finger; getting rid of the moisture, "I'm glad I came over now. Need some help finishin' your shower?"

"Temptin'." He stated, with a smirk, knowing that if that happened, neither of them would be leaving the room for a few days, "Thought maybe you came here to cancel on me."

"Nah, I'm lookin' forward to tonight. I had to go down to the front desk an' see what room you were in. You never gave me a time an' you never asked me fo' my room number." She left out the part where she had a feeling he wasn't serious about the date. Seeing as how this was her first one, she wasn't going to let it get cancelled too easily. Rogue mentally cursed at herself for rambling on.

"With our luck, I jus' thought we'd walk into each other." He tried to play it off cool, mentally cursing at himself for forgetting to get such information due to the fact he had been nervous. He wasn't used to feeling that way.

She nodded, smiling, "I'll let you go so you can finish your shower; you still have soap suds in your hair."

"I'll see you around eight?"

"Not if I see you first. I'll be seein' _you_ in th' main lobby at eight o'clock _sharp_, Rem. Try not to _fall_ head over heels fo' me down there, will ya?" Raising her brows up at them, she turned on her heel and left, her hips swaying back and forth tauntingly as she walked down the hall.

"_Merde_." Remy whispered, leaning forward to see her disappear around the corner. Her sass and charm would most likely be the death of him. Closing the hard wood door, he announced, with a smirk, "Remy likes." And then he went back to his shower so rinse out his beautiful hair, his mind still on the mystery girl, "An' I got to get 'er name!" He laughed, chuckling, snapping his fingers. Remy did like a little mystery and a little challenge—or at least he did. Shrugging his shoulders at his own thoughts, he stepped back into his bathroom to finish his lovely _cold_ shower.

XXX 

"Well, that was a great way of makin' a fool out of yourself an' makin' yourself look desperate." Rogue wiped the sweaty palms of her hands against the bottom of her white t-shirt, making a face, as she walked down the hall, back to her room. "I don't even know what I'm goin' to wear," She mumbled to herself, "Revealin'? Conservative?" She shrugged her shoulder, getting out the card key to her room, and then opened the door. "I'll jus' dream how I please."

Rogue bottled up her 'first date' emotions, convincing herself it was the heat making her feel this way. Glancing at the red glowing numbers on her digital clock, her stomach fluttered, seeing as how it was nearly a quarter after six.

She took a long, warm shower, as she liked the water to be perfect, and to her, perfect was not too cold, yet not too hot.

After her shower, which wasn't as long as it seemed, she stood in her room, a towel wrapped around her delicate body, trying to figure out what to wear.

"Not that it matters." She reminded herself, her cheeks pink, and that wasn't a result from her warm shower.

Finally, she chose to wear purple skirt, which was made from a thin material and it went down pass her knees and had a slit, along with black open toe sandals and a white tank—feeling bland, she added a dark violet scarf around her neck.

She wore no make-up, as she only owned peach colored lip-gloss. Kitty wouldn't allow her to bring her dark make-up, which was the only kind she owned.

After taking her sweet time getting ready, she glanced over at the clock to see that it was two minutes to seven thirty, and scowled at it, as she thought it'd at least be closer to eight by now.

With an impatient sigh, she grabbed her purse, and decided that she was better off waiting in the lobby, hoping that he, too, would be early.

'_I feel ridiculous. I'm a twenty-four year old virgin—goin' on 'er first date_.' Rogue made a face, locking the door with her card key, '_And it's all goin' to change._'

Rogue smiled when she got to the main lobby to see Remy sitting in a chair, tapping his foot.

XXX 

The dinner started off awkward, and didn't exactly go up hill from that.

They sat in the back of the hotel's little restaurant because Remy had told the waitress 'smoking section' to which Rogue sent him a look that he didn't receive. When she saw the small closed off section was empty, instantly, she unknowingly let it go that she didn't like second hand smoke.

"So, am I ever goin' to learn your name?" Remy asked, smirking charmingly, after the waitress left them and they got settled to their table.

"Maybe." She answered with a shrug of the shoulders. Truthfully, for the first time ever, she felt weird about her name—Rogue. It was a unique name as Irene had always put it.

Remy leaned forward on his elbows, "Do you not like your name o' do you not trust me with such personal information?" He cringed, hearing his own words, as they came out more harsh and rude than he intentionally intended. "Sorry, I just mean—"

"No, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't be playin' games like that." Rogue admitted, shyly, as she mocked his movement and leaned forward on her elbows, only she laced her fingers together and lightly set her chin against the bridge of fingers, "To be honest, I came here this summer hopin' to change a little." She wrinkled her nose up, not liking her choice of words.

Remy just stared at her darkened form from his sunglasses and nodded numbly, "Me too."

Rogue just gave him a small smile, "I don't think you really understand—"

"_Non_—I do. Mo' than you think." He reached over and ever so gently he caressed his thumb down her bare arm. "How 'bout that name?"

"How 'bout I give you my name when you take off those glasses, sugah?" She suggested, only half teasing him. When he cocked a brow at her, her heartbeat sped up, thinking maybe she had somehow offended him. "I mean, is it some sort of condition?"

"Remember when you were a youngin' an' your mother told you not to look directly into the sun?"

Obviously to where he was going with that, Rogue shook her head, "Nope." When he cocked a brow at her again, her stomach rumbled with nervousness, which she took as hunger rumbles, "I never went out much as a kid," She answered, sitting up straight, suddenly looking uncomfortable, "I, uh, had a skin condition."

Remy just nodded, trying to be understanding, as he could tell she didn't want to give any details, or talk more about her 'skin condition.' He did, however, take a certain fascination with her skin as he stared at her pale, smooth flesh.

"It's cleared up now." Rogue stated quickly, shivering as she felt his eyes stare at her from the other side of his sunglasses. "So, let me guess, you looked directly into the sun for too long?"

"I—" He started to say, but was interrupted when the waitress came over, chewing loudly on gum, a notepad in her hand, asking them what they wanted to drink. Rogue ordered a coke, where as Remy ordered a Jack Daniels.

Things soon got quiet, and went back to being awkward as they both shifted in their seat, unaware of what to talk about.

"So, Remy, where you from?" Rogue asked, leaning forward as she absent-mindedly fiddled with her scarf.

"Why don't you—"

"Guess?" She finished his sentence; a small smile lingered on her pale lips, "The South?"

"Warm." He answered casually, exhaling deeply on his fingernails, and then wiping them against his chest and across the fabric of his black t-shirt.

"Hint?"

"_Non_."

She wrinkled her nose up, not liking guessing games, "This conversation won't get far if you don't help." She stated, almost offensively.

He smirked, almost pleased by her actions, "Louisiana, _cherie_. You know, th'—"

"French Quarter?" Finally, his subtle hint of French clued her in like the sun shining through clouds.

"_Oui_, New—" Once again, our dear Cajun was cut off when the waitress re-entered with their drinks. She asked them if they were ready to order, and Remy waved his hand at her, asking for a few more minutes.

"Too bad we can't get jambalaya in this joint." Rogue stated the waitress left, feeling homesick, "I could really go fo' some home cooked jambalaya," Making a face, she also admitted, "I tried th' stuff in th' can, but it jus' wasn't as good."

"It comes in a _can_?" The fellow Southerner asked, arching a brow in disbelief, as he was used to his favorite food being home cooked, usually by his Tante Mattie, and sometimes by himself.

Rogue nodded, with a sigh, "_Oui monsieur_." She mocked, amused by his French accent. She sipped on her coke, her eyes locked on his handsome face. '_I can't believe I feel so comfortable with him_.' She stated, craving to kiss his lips. The desire made her run her tongue along her own lips as she sunk back into her seat.

"Somethin' wrong?" He asked, noticing the distant look on her face, and the strange emotion coming from her. He picked up his beverage and took a swig.

"Nothin'." A sly smile tugged back on her lips as she slid out of her seat and walked over to him. Placing one hand on his shoulder, she saddled herself in his lap, her purple skirt pushed up mid-thigh, taunting her pale, athletic legs.

Remy placed his free hand on her hip; in his other hand was the frosty beer filled mug. He squeezed her hip as she crushed her lips up against his. His pulse raced at what seemed like an alarming rate as his own hunger poured from his lips to hers when he tried to control the kiss.

That's when he felt the familiar tingly sensation in his hand that was tightly grasping the glass. His eyes widened, realizing he had accidentally charged the mug. Immediately, he dropped the mug and pushed them out of the chair, shielding her from the small explosion.

**XXX**

**Just to give you an idea on how busy I've been lately, I'll tell you this: I haven't read any fanfiction in several days. (I'm ROMY deprived and it blows) I need to catch up this weekend, and hopefully, by Monday night at the latest, I'll have the next chapter up. Sorry so short but it was either this or you wait longer. **

**Also, I hope New Orleans doesn't 'sink' from Ivan. ( **


	7. Chapter 6

XXX 

--

In case anyone didn't notice, I can't count. The last chapter was indeed chapter five, I just put it as six because.. I did (and the files was listed as fic2pt6). It's been corrected. I think. 

--

XXX 

XXX

He sat alone on the beach, staring off into the sea, his eyes cloudy and distant.

Although he didn't hear her walk towards him from a short distance away, he sensed her.

Rogue walked in slow strides towards her, holding a bottle of wine by the neck in one hand and her sandals in the other. She sat down next to him, uninvited, setting her sandals and the bottle next to her.

"My brother is a mutant." She spoke softly, looking up into the sky, which resembled a black sea filled with stars. A small, delicate smile crossed her lips, "He was born blue an' fuzzy. A tail—three fingers—white eyes."

Speechless, he looked over at her, noticing the peaceful look on her face and how it changed drastically as she continued talking.

"My mother—if that's what you want to call her—is a mutant too. She's a trained assassin an' has blue skin, fiery red hair, which matches her temper, an' dresses like its Halloween everyday. But she can change her form and be anyone she wants to be." She glanced over at him, her expression gloomy, "What a power, huh? To be able to get out of your own skin?"

He nodded, numbly, "But you can't run away from your past—or get away from yourself."

"You don't like yourself because you're a mutant?" Chills ran down her spine. She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly.

"Look at me." Hesitating, he slid his sunglasses off, revealing his demonic eyes to her.

Rogue's eyes just widened slightly as the glowing red orbs stared at her. "I knew they weren't brown." She stated, absent-mindedly, her voice small as she remembered her dream and how the brown eyes just hadn't suited him.

Not exactly pleased at her reaction, Remy looked away. "Growin' up, I always thought they were cool an' unique. That changed when I started bein' accused of bein' a demon, then I startin' blowin' things up, which didn't help an' felt mo' like a curse. " Suddenly, he was caught off guard when Rogue suddenly was on her knees, facing him. She reached out, cupping his chin, making his head face her.

"If there's anythin' I learned, bein' adopted into a mutant family, it's that everythin' happens fo' a reason.." She spoke slowly, almost as if she were choosing her words more carefully. "I understand mo' than you think."

"Adopted?" He echoed as she let go of his chin and sat back on her heels. "You were adopted?"

"Yeah, when I was four."

"My father, Jean-Luc, took me under his wing when I was an infant. He mostly uses me fo' my powers, but I've grown to love 'im anyway." When she didn't say anything, he glanced up at her, to see her staring down into her lap, a blank expression on her face. "Somethin' wrong? Somethin' I said?"

She glanced up at him, almost surprised. Her mouth parted to say something but nothing came out. Shyly, she shook her head but the look in her eyes told him that she wasn't telling him something. As he barely knew her, he let it go, knowing everyone had secrets.

"What exactly do you do?" Rogue asked, obviously changing the subject, she suddenly took his hand in hers, "How do you blow stuff up? With your mind o'—"

"I can charge inanimate objects with kinetic energy. It makes 'em go boom. Sorry 'bout earlier, when I get excited o' aroused, I accidentally charge somethin' up. Some ratin' system, huh?" He smirked, pleased, as he noticed the twinkle of laughter in her green eyes. "I really am sorry—"

"It was partly my fault. I was completely out of line." But that didn't mean she didn't like it.

"By all means, you weren't." Turning so he was facing her more, he gently touched the side of her face and ran his fingers along her cheekbones. Smiling to himself, he then placed his hand against the back of her head, and gently grabbing a fistful of her thick auburn hair, he pushed her head forward, and captured her luscious lips with his.

When the regrettably short kiss ended, things got silent. Rogue stared down, breathless, her eyes half shut and her lips partly opened.

"Rogue." She stated, in a dry whisper. Her eyes lifted up, locking on his.

"What?" He asked lightheaded, barely hearing what she had said.

"Rogue." Rogue repeated, this time her voice higher, even strained, "That's my name." She lowered her head; her white fringes fell into her face. "I know it ain't a common name like Marie o' pretty, like Anna, but it's my name an' I like it."

"You're such a _rogue fille_, _cherie_." He slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer, "All jokes an' puns aside, I like it an' I think—_is that wine_?"

"Yeah," Rogue laughed, reaching over, picking up the glass bottle by the neck and placing it between her knees. "Since our date was interrupted, and we were kicked out of the restaurant for playing with fireworks, I thought we might as well make the best of tonight."

"You don't care I'm a mutant?" He couldn't help but to sound surprised, as 'Rogue' sounded too good to be true. Well, by the looks of it, he guessed.

"Should I?" A pang of guilt reminded her that she was a mutant herself, but she tucked her emotions away. She leaned forward, planting a small, soft kiss on the side of his mouth.

Remy just smiled, his crimson red eyes twinkling, twirling curls of her auburn hair between his fingers. '_I think I've found th' femme fo' me. There's jus' somethin' 'bout 'er an' there ain't no way I'm lettin' her go_.' "C'mon _cherie_." Getting to his feet, he helped her to hers. "I have enough sand in my--."

"Spare me the details." Rogue stated, smiling, as she placed a hand on his shoulder to keep her steady while she slipped her feet into her sandals. "It's beautiful though, isn't it?"

"Th' wine? I suppose."

Rogue rolled her eyes as her arm looped through his and they slowly made their way back to the hotel. "Th' beach, sugah."

"I guess," He shrugged, "All the trash really makes it, uh, look priceless." To let her know he was kidding, he smiled, "It is, 'specially durin' sunset an' sunrise. An' seein' th' tides come in—"

"It's romantic, huh? I wonder what it's like, havin' sex on a beach."

"You'd probably get sand in places where the sun doesn't shine." Remy smirked; getting some highly rated mental images in his head. They stopped briefly before entering the hotel, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out his sunglasses.

"What are you doin'?" Rogue asked, making a face, "You don't need to put them on."

"People might not feel comfortable seein' them." He admitted, bitterly.

"Who cares what people think? You should care what I think."

"I should?" He cocked a brow.

"I am goin' to your hotel room, ain't I?" She asked, taking the sunglasses from him, "An' I think your eyes are beautiful an' unique."

"Strange. That's what I was thinkin' 'bout your hair an' name." The Cajun stated, tugging on a ringlet of white hair. "You're certainly somethin' Rogue."

"I could say the same 'bout you." Rogue said, softly, standing up taller. Still grasping the bottle of wine, she leaned in towards him, allowing his arm to slip around her waist as they shared a priceless, sweet kiss.

XXX 

"An' when I was eight, I was banned from church fo' blowin' up baby Jesus.."

"When I was thirteen, I tried takin' a trailer tractor fo' a joy ride.."

"An' when I was ten, I wanted a gator as a pet. Tante Mattie screamed like hell when she walked in to see a gator in her kitchen, chewin' on a chicken that was thawin' out fo' dinner. She got so angry, she slapped it silly with a rolled up newspaper."

Rogue laughed and rolled onto her stomach. "I miss the South," She proclaimed, her voice soft.

Remy was lying next to her on his bed, on his back, "I miss my nephew."

"An' th' rest of your family?"

"This is good wine." He quickly changed the subject, knowing he did, kind of, miss his family but was also annoyed with him, and he didn't want to explain all of it to Rogue. "Sure you don't want some?"

"Light weight." Rogue pointed out, rolling over onto her back. "It's more amusin' to watch someone get drunk. Although, half a bottle already an' your speech ain't even slurrin'."

"I just ramble on a lot when I get drunk. At least that's what I'm told. People have told me that I ne'er shut up, that I jus' go on an' on an' on like tomorrow ain't ever comin' o' some shit."

Slightly amused, Rogue smiled, and made a humming sound. She fiddled with the knot of the scarf, which was still securely wrapped around her neck. "You look tired." She commented, sitting up, and reached over to brush strands of hair out from his eyes.

"What time is it?" Remy asked, grabbing her wrist gently before she could retract. He then softly kissed the inside of her palm.

"It's goin' fo' two." She answered, stifling a yawn, which masked how fast her pulse was racing as he trailed down, kissing the area beneath her palm. His soft, moist lips against her sensitive skin made her shiver. Shifting her weight, she pulled her arm away and moved in, wanting to do nothing more than kiss his perfect lips.

One strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer towards him as he sat up, while his free hand ran through her wild mane of hair. His heart pounded against his ribcage as his adrenaline flowed, as he was addicted to her kisses, and herself at that, and enjoyed nothing more than her company.

The kiss parted when his hands began to fumble with the back of her tanktop. They stared into each other's eyes, both breathless.

Rogue was only aware of the alcohol that was contained within his warm breath, which made her feel nauseas, or so that's what she blamed as she experience emotions that she never had before. Longing for one last kiss before she left, she tilted her head and moved in, hoping to just place a soft, quick kiss on his lips.

That didn't happen.

Right as she was about to pull away, he wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders, keeping her there.

Her mind began to swirl as part of her was scared and the other part wanted more. She groaned against his lips as she felt his energy slowly getting sucked into her.

Pulling away with such force, she fell off the bed and landed on the floor, hard. Her body relaxed and her head fell back, and her eyes closed, as her chest heaved up and down, with each heavy breath she took.

'_Stupid girl_.' She cursed at herself, her hands rolled into fists. '_Don't lose yourself—your control—over emotions an' don't start anythin' ya can't finish._'

Rogue wasn't that great at giving herself pep talks.

"Rogue—_cherie_—are you all right?" It was Remy's frantic voice that made her eyes pop open.

"Fine." She mumbled, rubbing the back of her head as she gathered her thoughts and got to her feet, "What happened?"

In his slightly drunken state, as he had alcohol on an empty stomach, the confused Cajun shrugged, "Not sure." He looked even more tired now, and pale.

"I—I'm tired. I think I'm goin' to head back to my room now. I had fun, Rem." She admitted, honestly, shaken up a little, as she didn't want him to know she was a mutant.

"Again?" He asked, yawning, and stretching out his arms as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and got to his feet.

"Again?" Rogue repeated, not comprehending what he was saying.

Smirking, he nodded, "Us. Tomorrow? Th' beach? We can build sand castles. O' go swimmin' o' bury each other in th' sand o'—"

"I get your point an' sure." She smiled; ignoring the anxiety that built up for another Remy filled day, "I can't wait."

After exchanging a few more words, Rogue left, rejecting his offer to walk her to her room, as she didn't want him staggering down the hallway and knocking over plants and vases, and possibly running into some other girl, and proclaiming that she was a bitch.

When she got to her room, she checked the messages on her cell; only to find out she had at least five from a certain Pryde back in New York.

'_Boy, do I have stuff to share with her_.' Rogue thought, collapsing onto her bed. '_I wonder if she's goin' to get mad I haven't been listenin' to 'er little note cards_.. _Oh, well, she'll forget about 'em when I tell 'er I found my summer guy..'_

XXX 

I could write more, but then I wouldn't finish it tonight. Just so I don't get reviews asking about it, Rogue is not losing control of her powers. It was a fluke, kind of like what Remy did last chapter.

**Hope y'all liked it. :D **


	8. Chapter Seven

XXX 

--

_"Rogue, for the past week I've been trying to get a hold of you!" _

Rogue rested on her bed, propped up on pillows, her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. She was clad in blue plaid boxers and a green tanktop; her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She held the phone up to her ear, her grip loose and her eyes half closed and her mouth slightly opened.

_"I've been ringing and ringing you but no one ever answer, like never."_

Needless to say, our adoring Southern belle was bored, and hearing her friend nag at her from over two thousand, eight hundred and six miles away didn't exactly help with that situation.

_"What have you been doing there that keeps you so busy?"_

A sly smile tugged back at her pale lips and she sunk deeper into the pillows beneath her. For the past few days she had been spending nearly every waking minute with her new favorite Cajun.

_"Rogue?"_

Never had she felt so comfortable with someone of the opposite sex, or with a _person_ at that. Jus thinking about how much fun she had been having with him and knowing she would be spending more time with him made anxiety pile up in the pit of her stomach. She just worried that he would get sick of spending his vacation with her. Judging by how much fun they had together, she pushed away that feeling.

_"Rogue, are you there?"_

She knew that this would certainly be her most memorable summer. Rogue almost dreaded that there was only two month remaining of the summer, but she couldn't get sidetracked too much as she would have to head back to Bayville and resume her life there.

"_Hello_?"

The strained voice of her friend brought Rogue back to reality. Sitting up straighter, she blinked several times, trying to remember what they had been talking about.

"Yes, Kitty?" She asked calmly, trying to sound casual and keep her mind on one thing but the sly smile continued to linger on her lips.

"_What have you been doing lately?"_ Kitty asked, almost suspicious. "_I will be coming down in two weeks so if you're hiding anything from me I'll so find out_."

"All right, Kit. I guess you will. You should know that I married a guy I don't know under the influence of alcohol an' now I'm pregnant with his love child." Rogue proclaimed in a low, bored monotone. Absent-mindedly, she began to twirl the cord of the phone around her index finger.

Knowing better than to believe it, and knowing when to detect Rogue's sarcasm after all these years, Kitty rolled her eyes, griping the phone tighter, "_I know you well enough to know you're not telling me something._"

"I've been hangin' out with a guy." Rogue spoke after a slight hesitation, and when she stopped talking, Kitty got silent for about half a minute, waiting for her to continue.

"_And_?" The brunette urged, pressing the cordless phone against the side of her head, acting as if Rogue was speaking and she didn't want to miss a word. "_Tell me about him_!" She added after another half a minute of silence.

"He's great—I guess." She said the last two words quickly, suddenly feeling nervous, "And, uh, I don't think our relationship has much a future." Her voice sounded funny.

"_Relationship_?" Rogue could sense the grin plastered on Kitty's face. "_I so want details_."

Rogue just smiled, sinking back into her pillows. "His name is Remy.."

--

XXX 

"_What are you doin'_?"

Balancing the phone between his shoulder and head, Remy emptied sand from his shoes, making a face at it, "After this summer, I never want to see sand again. It's gettin' in places where th' sun doesn't even shine," He stated with a grunt, shifting his weight as he reached for his other shoe. He was spending his morning shaking out the sand from various items.

"_You called me up to bitch about sand_?" His brother asked, skeptical. "_I don't have time to sit around hearin' you complain 'bout the sand in your ass. Mercy is goin' to have my head if I don't finish th' baby's room_."

Remy rolled his eyes, knowing Henri had more mood swings than Mercy, who was in her third trimester. "What ever happened to your positive attitude about me findin' a _femme_?"

Henri scoffed, "_It disappeared last week when my fils decided he didn't want to wear pants_."

"Growin' up to be jus' like his father, huh?" Remy asked, amused, getting to his feet, only to discover his stupidity—oh, and the pile of sand on the ground. When Henri didn't respond, he sighed, "I'll call you back in a few weeks. I have plans to fulfill."

"_Plans? What_—"

"_Au revoir_, _frère_." With a satisfied smirk, he set the phone back down on the base. He picked it back up and after hearing the dial tone, he dialed a certain number that was fresh on his mind. His usual smirk faded when he heard the busy signal. "That ain't supposed to happen." He stated, aloud. Whenever he called Rogue, it would ring and by the third ring she'd answer. This was breaking the pattern. This was breaking the fourth wall. Something was wrong, Remy decided, and it wasn't the sand that had found its way back between his toes. Sighing, he sat back down, still holding the phone, "I need to get out more" And with Rogue, nonetheless. The corner of his lips tugged back into a small smile. '_Rogue_.'

Silently, he pushed him back up, picked up his white beater and slipped it on. With a little skip in his step, he left the room, the small smile still present on his pursed lips.

XXX -- 

Rogue paced around the room, the chord of the phone dragging behind her, her cheeks warm, "You're makin' somethin' out of nothin'."

"_I guess I'll know when I come over_." Kitty stated, wanting to do no more than tease her friend for all the years Rogue had teased her about the guys she dated.

The Southerner opened her mouth to say something right as a tapping came at her chamber door. Scrunching her nose up, she told Kitty to hold on. Clasping her hand over the mouthpiece, she walked over to the door, opening it with her free hand.

"Am I interruptin' somethin', _cherie_?"

--

XXX 

He had walked down the hall slowly, walking near the wall, trailing his fingers across the flat, smooth surface of the said wall. When he got to her room, he stood outside, wondering if she even wanted to spend another day with him.

Remy LeBeau took chances.

He knocked on the door, but not too hard. He found himself wanting to control himself? His own feelings felt unfamiliar in this current situation, but he liked it.

Hearing the faintest sound of her voice on the other side, his heart fluttered. Right as the door opened, he half-heartedly considered running.

Remy quickly caught himself, and his composure, clearing his head he smirked, taking notice of the phone she was holding, "Am I interruptin' somethin', _cherie_?"

A smile crossed her cherry lips as she brought the phone up to her ear, her body numb, "Listen, Kit—I have to go." She stated, her eyes locking on the Cajun's red orbs.

"_Did I just hear a **male** voice_?" Kitty asked, straining to hear any background voices. "_Ooh, Rogue! I'm so proud of you. What about my note_—"

"I'll call you back later." Rogue stated, her voice firm yet bittersweet. "Good bye, Kitty. Don't be late for class." Kitty made a weird sound and immediately hung up, knowing if she didn't get a move on that she'd be late for her afternoon class. "Friend from New York." She stated, feeling as if she'd have to explain whom she was talking to.

Remy just shrugged, leaning on the white doorframe, "What are you doin' today?"

"A ton of stuff." She answered with the snap of a finger, "My whole day has been booked." She glanced down at her bare wrist, "My goodness, and look at the time."

He just cocked a brow at her.

"We don't have a minute to waste!" Rogue stated, grabbing his arm. She pulled him into the room, shutting the door with her foot as she spun around.

Immediately, as if he were acting on impulse, he stepped forward, caught up in the moment, and pulled her closer towards him, his strong arms wrapped around her waist. Loving the feeling of her against him, he kissed her, his own hunger pouring from his lips to hers.

The kiss soon ended, and it too soon for their own liking. They stared into each other's eyes, breathless.

Bring her hand up to her mouth, Rogue smiled, "Beach ready to go?" She asked, almost dazed.

Remy just chucked, touching her silky hair. "Your towel leaves at midnight." He stated, his eyes cloudy. After hearing his own words, he laughed, wondering if he were drugged. It was like they were making their own romyisms.

XXX 

--

"C'mon Ro', we're goin' to th' beach again, no th' prom."

"Hold your horses." Less than a minute later, Rogue walked out of the bathroom, clad in a white robe, a bottle of sunscreen in her hand. "Want to lather me up, sugah?"

Remy smirked, sitting up straighter, "Don't have to ask me twice."

"Good, 'cause I only asked once." And with that, her robe fell to the ground, revealing her black bikini. She sucked in air, waiting for an initial response, as his eyes trailed up her long legs, her flat abdomen, her concealed breasts, and her broad shoulders. When he didn't answer, verbally, she placed her hands on her hips, impatient. "Did you jus' blow a fuse o' what?"

The word 'blow' echoed in his mind, which made him shake his head, absent-mindedly, "_Non_." He answered, trying to sound casual, his face warm.

"_Non_." Rogue mocked, feeling more confident than she had ever felt. She tossed the bottle of sunscreen over to him, which he caught with his excellent catching skills—and made a face when it fumbled out of his sweaty hands. She then sauntered over, sitting next to him; her back faced to him, and pulled her hair over her shoulder, "Already did th' face, shoulders, an' legs. Jus' need a little help on th' back area."

Turning, he touched the plastic clasp that kept the bikini connected in the back, "It'll be easier if I—"

Lowering her head, Rogue laughed, and nodded her head.

With just a quick snag, the plastic clasped unhooked. Pushing the sides aside, so they wouldn't get in the way, he picked up the bottle of sunscreen that was set next to him and squirted a nickel-sized amount into his palm.

Pressing his palm against her shoulder blade, he began to massage the lotion into her skin, taking small break to refill the oily spot on his palm.

He studied her back, brushing his thumb against a freckle on her shoulder. Feeling her lean back into him, he bowed forward, kissing the freckle on her shoulder.

Resisting any urges, he hooked the plastic clap together and ran his fingers gently down the middle of her back; stopping at the small of her back, "Ready to go?" He asked, his voice soft.

"'K." Rogue spoke, uncertain, her voice even softer than his. "Remy?"

"_Oui_?"

"I've had fun the past few days." She stated, honestly, leaning back into him again. She felt him gently rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Me too, Rogue." And he did—he had more than fun with her. Remy knew it was more than just that. He knew he was falling in love with her.

Pulling away from him, she stood up, grabbing his arm. "C'mon Remy." She urged with a wink, a seductive smirk pressed onto her lips. Boy, there was some stuff she just wasn't going to share with Kitty.

--

**XXX**

Ugh. I can't write any more crap. I'm not going to apologize for how late this chapter is since I spent several hours in just rewriting it.

I'm going to update **Choices** next, most likely.


	9. Chapter 8

--

She sat back on her heels, leaning forward, cupping her hands into the warm sand. "Are you enjoyin' your stay?" She asked quietly, closing her eyes as a cool, gentle breeze passed her, tickling her sensitive, uncovered flesh. When he didn't answer, she glanced behind her shoulder at him, only to notice that the Cajun was staring at her, his crimson red eyes glowing ever so slightly in the dimness of the night. "What?" Rogue asked, brushing her hands against her thighs, excess grains of sand stuck to the flesh as she sat back, her full lips smiling.

"Nothin'." He retorted with a smirk, noticing her faintly pink cheeks. Things soon got quiet between them, but it was a comfortable silence nonetheless. The sound of the waves hitting the shore seemed to relax their mood, and the soft murmurings of people from several feet away. '_She's belle_.' He examined, wanting to do no more than kiss her soft angelic lips once more.

"_Remy_." Rogue stressed, her cheeks even warmer, "Starin' ain't polite." She stated matter-of-factly with a kind chuckle and smile.

"Then don't stare back." That had triggered it; the two Southerner's had a staring duel. It was unsaid that the loser would be the first one to blink or look away. Rogue scooted up more so that she was closer, and leaned her head towards his. After about ten seconds, Remy lost his patience and before she could even more, he charged forward, tickling her bare sides.

"Cheater!" She managed to declare through her laughing fit. "You are a _ch-he-he-he-he-ater_!" She proclaimed, squirming under his weight as he hovered above her. Rogue knew she wasn't ticklish but the feeling of his rough fingertips against her bare sides just made her shiver and ticklish, akin to how it felt like electricity was racing through her. Scrambling out from underneath him, she dashed off, running along the shoreline, glancing back at Remy who had immediately started to chase after her.

Remy, who got sick of running before he even got to his feet, shouted to her, "You're not supposed to run!" Lately, Remy hadn't been fond of any form of exercise.

"I wouldn't run if you weren't chasin' me," She called over to him, laughter present in her voice. The ever so graceful Rogue then slipped out of her flip-flops and fell forward, still laughing.

"Looks like you fell head over heels." Remy commented, smirking, helping Rogue to her feet. With an unsaid blessing, he reached down, brushing off the sand that stained her shins.

Rogue just laughed at the comment, "Yeah, you wish." She had teased, looping her arm through his. Wordlessly, Remy looked into her smiling green eyes, troubled on her true feelings. She just bumped her hip against his and grabbed his arm, urging him to walk with her, her footsteps quick.

"Do you ever get tired?" He asked with a yawn, "It's like that hangover drained all my energy." Rogue made an abrupt stop. Averting his eyes, she turned and faced the ocean, folding her arms over her chest as another cool breeze passed. Shivering, she cursed at herself for not getting a shirt when she went to get a pair of jean shorts from her room earlier that evening. "Somethin' wrong?"

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling faintly, "Nah." Shivering again, she ran her fingers across the goose bumps that appeared alongside her forearms. At that given moment, she felt weird—like she wasn't herself. She wondered if it were a dream; everything just didn't feel _real_ to her. "I want to go swimmin'." She stated evenly, slipping out of her flip-flops.

"Th' water is freezin'." Remy told her, feeling slightly perplexed. Rogue didn't respond—in slow steps she walked towards the water, her lower lip quivering as the chilly waters splashed against her shins. She stopped when the water level was up to her knees, and then she turned around, facing him, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"My feet are numb." She stated, scrunching up her nose.

"Think you can make it to th' shore safely?"

"No." She said, her voice distant. Rogue stared at him, titling her head a little, "Help me?" She asked, reaching out her hand to him.

With a cocked brow, Remy stepped forward, his feet sinking in the wet sand, and right as he grasped Rogue's cold hand, her grip tightened and she jerked forward, causing him to lose balance and fall into the water. Gasping, Remy landed on all fours, the water came up right below his shoulder.

"I should have seen that comin'." He groaned, not looking forward to walking with soggy shorts, knowing they would bunch up on him and that's just no comfortable. If his brother had done that, he would've clobbered him and would have tried to drown him, but for some reason, he found himself _not_ caring that he was now over half drenched in salt water.

"Alas, you didn't." Rogue stated with a wistful smile, helping him to his feet. She coughed, clearing her throat, "Sorry I got you wet."

"It's quite all right. As long as you let me repay the favor." With a wink, he picked her up before she could object and twirled her around—and then dropped her into the water.

"_I_ should have seen that comin'." Rogue groaned, blowing white strands of hair out from her face. She looked up at him, her full lips pouting, and her green eyes big and glossy, "I'm cold." She stated, her accent thick.

"Then let's get back inside." Remy offered his hand, to which Rogue was hesitant to take. "What can I go? Get you even more _wet_?" He asked, arching up a brow.

"You can try." She stated with a sly smile, looping her arm through his. He just smiled at her in return as they walked back to the hotel in the most comfortable silence. Rogue often glanced over at him, still smiling. "So, Remy, do you have any dark secrets?" She asked, almost teasing.

He glanced down at her as they sat themselves down on the stairs of the hotel, both still wet from their little "swim" in the ocean. "Like what? Dark family secrets or dark past secrets?" He asked, in all serious.

She shrugged, leaning towards him, "I want to tell you my secret." She practically crawled into his lap, and before he could ask, she brushed her lips against his. But that was not enough. Nothing was ever enough. He cupped the side of her face, kissing her back, more passionately, long and hard. "What a secret, huh?" Rogue asked, her voice no higher than a whisper. She trailed her finger down the side of his face.

"I've got a better one." He told her, smirking, his arm wrapped almost protectively around her.

She tapped his nose lightly, "Do you _really_, monsieur LeBeau?" She asked, sticking out her chin a little farther with each spoken word, "Tell me more."

Remy just found himself wanting to do so. He wanted to tell her everything about him. He wanted her to like, or even love, him for _him_. Why did he find a girl he barely knew so trusting? Why did he just want to talk to her, and hold her? Why, who was he? Surely he wasn't Remy LeBeau. Ah, but he was. He was a Cajun who finally fell head over heels and there was nothing that could be done. Well, except maybe, a broken heart.

"What do you want to know about me?" He asked, tapping the dimple in her chin with his index finger.

Rogue, however, wasn't caught up in the moment as how she asked if he had any children. It wasn't a question she would have asked if she were in the mood, although she still couldn't wipe the smile off her lips.

"Maybe a few in Africa." He shrugged, his mouth operating before his brain could comprehend the question. Remy didn't notice then, but later took notice that he tried too hard to be funny when he was feeling slightly nervous, or even anxious. He would just blab on and on if his cool ratio didn't pummel that side of him. It somehow reminded him of something, although he could not put his finger on it.

"You better get workin' on that child support." She slapped his knee playfully, trembling slightly from the damp yet humid air. Exhaling slowly, she leaned in, planting a soft kiss near the side of his mouth. "It's gettin' late. I think I'm goin' to call it a night."

In a wordless agreement, he got to his feet, and gave her his hand, "You wouldn't mind a tiresome Cajun escortin' you back to your room, would you _mademoiselle_?"

She looked up mockingly, as if she were pondering the thought. "I don't know.." Rogue trailed off, her expression selfless and blank. She couldn't conceal it for much longer; the smile spread back onto her lips. "Of course—I mean, if you could find time in your _busy_ schedule."

"Who we kiddin'?" He asked bluntly, taking her hand. "We have all th' time in th' world, don't we?" He suddenly found it hard to make sense and concentrate at the same time. He really was tired, in deed.

"Like time is ever on anyone's side." Rogue declared, her voice almost bitter but that did not let on. They walked into the hotel, and slowly walked to the elevator, "So, do you really have kids in Africa?"

--

"You know, I don't think I could have found my way without you, good sir." Despite the slab of sarcasm in her voice, Remy bowed, taking her hand in his, as to where he kissed her knuckles.

"Jus' makin' sure you don't get lost." He smirked, still holding her hand as she leaned against the door, smiling wistfully. "So, you got any plans fo' tomorrow?"

Her smile faded, "Actually yes, I'm sleepin' in an' then goin' shoppin'." She smiled sheepishly, tucking back hair behind her ear, "I hope you don't mind but I jus' want some.."

"Alone time?" Remy finished, still smirking, not looking too affected by her words. "Think you can survive a day without me?" He asked, pondering what he was going to do the following day.

"You'll have to get me a picture of you to get me through my Remy-less days." Kissing his chin, they exchanged their good nights and their night was over. He stood there, their eyes connected, until the door shut. Inhaling deeply, and feeling an unfamiliar emotion, he walked away, knowing she was watching him carefully from the peephole. While the top thing on his mind was if he had a picture of him, he also felt almost rejected.

--

He had been in that position before.

Remy paid no attention to the thoughts that raced through his mind as he went through his luggage, looking for his wallet. The wallet was actually lying near his pillow, only a few feet away from where he ransacked through the duffel bag. It always seems like things you're looking for are right in front of you, and this was one of those cases.

The position was just the other way around. He was the one telling the clingy girl that he didn't want to see her tomorrow. That moment was usually the last time the said woman probably talked to him.

Was he actually _clingy_?

'_Nah_.' He decided, spotting his wallet. '_Remy LeBeau ain't ever clingy_.' He did, however, agree that he would get out tomorrow. What would he do the day after tomorrow? Ah, well, only the future knew. Maybe.

--

The following morning, Rogue woke up to a picture of Remy that had been pushed under her door.

--

**XXX **

Ack, so I rushed the ending a bit. Sorry but I'm falling asleep and wanted to update or else I wouldn't get this chap out until next weekend. Still short but it seemed a hell of a lot longer considering how long it took me to write it.

Happy Halloween.


	10. Chapter Nine

--

'_Crap, crap, crap, crap_!' Rogue hopped carelessly around in her room, trying to slip on one shoe while looking around for the other match. Her car key to the car she was renting and her room key card out from between her clenched teeth. A strange noise erupted from her throat when she spotted the shoe peeking out from under the bed, to which she scrambled over to and quickly put it on and dropped her key and card into the palm of her hand. "She's goin' to kill me." She declared, almost nervously as she turned off the television and the light and exited the room, her hand shaking as she swiped her card and locked the door. "She's goin' to _kill_ me."

--

A not so happy Kitty stood outside the airport, glancing down at her watch every minute or so. Her left foot tapped impatiently and she griped the handle bar of her suitcase tightly. "I'm going to kill her." The brunette declared with a nod as she glanced down at her wristwatch. Seeing as how Rogue was supposed to pick her up an hour and a half ago, Kitty couldn't help but wonder if this was the sign of a bad omen. She nodded again, "Most definitely. Or at least phase her half way through a wall."

--

"Late fo' a hot date, _cherie_?" Remy inquired with an arched brow when Rogue practically ran past him as he was walking out from the hotel's café. He grabbed her gently by her elbow, wondering why it seemed like Rogue had been avoiding him for the past two days.

"I have to go pick my friend Kitty up at th' airport now. I'm late as it is now." She explained to him, breathlessly, "I've spent the last forty-eight hours plannin' this out with her an' I'm really late. I'll see you later—_promise_." She kissed the side of his mouth and quickly walked off without saying another word.

Remy crossed his arms over his chest, wondering what had gone wrong.

--

The day before.. 

"Rogue? It's me—Kitty. _Again_." An agitated sounding Kitty sat at her desk, typing up a letter to her parents on her laptop, her cordless phone squeezed between her shoulder and ear, as she was trying to get a hold of Rogue for the fifth time that day. "Listen—" She sighed heavily, "Just call me back." Making a face, she hung up and lazily dropped the phone, wincing slightly at the sharp impact it made when it hit the hardwood ground, and the added sound of the battery most likely disconnecting from the phone.

Her door, which had been unlocked, slowly creaked open a little, "Something wrong, Katherine?" A strong, yet caring Russian accented voice asked. He stood outside the door, not wanting to invade anymore on her privacy.

"Rogue—" Kitty admitted, the name sour on her tongue, "—is so getting on my last nerve."

"I wish you many more." Piotr told her, sincerely.

She just slouched over her laptop, pecking away slowly with one hand on her keyboard, a sullen expression on her face. "Thanks." She mumbled, unenthusiastically. "I just want to know what important thing has been keeping her away from her phone all day."

--

The day started out well enough.

"That has t' be the sorriest sand castle I've ever seen. Hell, it ain't even a 'sand castle' it's a 'sand _volcano_.'" Remy leaned over Rogue's hill of sand, to which she proclaimed was a castle, and ran his finger in a circle around the peak.

"Hush." She swatted his hand away, repacking the sand surrounding her masterpiece. "Mommy's workin'." Ignoring him as he sat back and watched, amused, Rogue went back to working on her pile of sand by digging a mote around it.

Remy remained quiet, only because he was granted the fine view of Rogue's ass as she bent over, fixated with playing in the sand. "So, Rogue, other than playin' for endless hours in the sand, what do you like to do?" He asked after several minutes of comfortable silence.

"Excuse me, Mr. LeBeau but I've never played in sand before until I got there." Bored with trying to make a pile of sand into a castle, she turned her attention, and her body, over to him, her legs crossed.

"Not even when you were a little runt in a sand box?" He asked with a teasing smile that seemed to fade when the Southerner shrugged her shoulders.

"No." She answered simply, without a care. "Not even. Anyway, in Bayville, all I mostly do is.. _read_." Rogue made a face at the answer—but at least she was being honest. She did read—a lot. "And workout." She added with a smile, as how she was more than happy about missing out on danger room sessions.

Remy, however, wasn't satisfied with her answer, "C'mon Rogue. A girl like _you_? What else do you do?"

'_A girl like you_.' Rogue repeated the line in her head, almost disgusted by the nature of the string of words. Ruefully, she spat out, "You don't even know me."

His brows rose, defensively, "Which is why I'm askin'." He pointed out. A sigh escaped from his lips, and he stood up, giving her his hand, "Lets take a walk."

"Why?" She asked, but took his helping hand and got to her feet. "What?" Rogue asked with a smile when she noticed a peculiar look on his face. Without realization, her hand slipped into his, their palms touching, as they started to walk away, together, as a whole.

Remy said nothing, but he smirked as he shook his head.

Rogue squeezed his hand after a minute of strong silence, "Back home, I am known for my dangerous touch, Remy." She stated in a cryptic voice, almost feeling the need to add a wink to the end of her statement. He gave her a look, and she found herself wanting to know what he interpreted by that comment—probably the opposite of what was meant seeing as how he didn't know about her powers. A part of her still wanted to tell him about her mutation but did it really matter?

"Really?" He asked, still smirking, "What a coincidence—as am I." He pointed out, looking down at his hands. He glanced back up at her with a wink.

"Do your, uh, powers have anything to do with your job?" Rogue asked, thoughtfully looking down as his hand that touched hers. Suddenly feeling flustered by his question, she added, "Heh, well, if you have a job—or somethin'." A nervous laugh passed her pale lips and she scratched the back of her head, "Sorry, I still don't know that much about you."

"Likewise." He added quietly, giving her hand a squeeze. "To be frank, Rogue, I don't think you can handle the truth." He stated, sounding like his cocky self, although he was half joking.

"An' _I_ don't think you can handle it." She added dryly, squeezing his hand back. Rogue suddenly laughed, her hand leaving his, "God, this is strange."

Remy shrugged his shoulders, understanding what she was saying, "Maybe. But I like spendin' time with you, _cherie_." He told her, honestly.

"Like-wise." Rogue told him, her voice small but sincere. Her eyes did the smiling as he slipped his hand back in hers and they continued their endless walk. "So, when are you goin' to let me bury you in th' sand?"

The last thing Remy wanted was to have—to put simply—a sand bath. "You t'ink it's weird that we're in a place wit' more things to do than play in th' sand an' yet we're—"

"Playin' in th' sand?" Rogue finished with a smile and a nod of the head. "The only thing I'm goin' to have to show from this vacation is sunburn." She winced at the thought, rubbing her arms.

"Maybe not." Remy stated huskily, half of him confused by his words, but despite that, he turned to her, gently lifting up her chin and kissed her. Not a soft, gentle kiss but a real kiss. When he ended the kiss, he opened his eyes. Her own eyes remained closed, as if she was saving the moment, and then they fluttered open, her cheeks warm.

Wordlessly, she took his hands in hers. The flesh of her delicate hands felt cool against his, and he inhaled deeply, the smell of the ocean and Rogue's light-scented perfume tickled his nostrils. She stared up into his eyes, her pulse quickening, her eyes drifting away into his blazing red orbs. Her lips parted and she exhaled, "I want to go dancin'."

The Cajun almost let out a small moan of protest when her hands slipped away from his. "Dancin'?" He asked, almost uncertain. Remy LeBeau may go to clubs but he wasn't a dancer per se and he danced for no one. But when she smiled at him, he knew she would get her way. And that drove him absolutely crazy.

--

His arm was wrapped securely around her waist and she leaned into him, her own mischievous smirk planted on her cherry lips. She stole glances at the couples on the dance floor, dancing close, intoxicated on the music. Rogue grabbed Remy's hand, nudging him forward, "Lets dance." She told him, evenly, squeezing his hand. She moved forward, getting slightly jerked back when he didn't move with her.

"_Non_." Remy stated firmly, his jaw tightening, hating to dance more than anything in the world. Almost as much as he hated seeing the pouting, almost hurt look planted on Rogue's face.

Rogue, however, wasn't the type to take "no", or "_non_" for that matter, as an answer. "Yes." Bringing his hand to her mouth, she softly kissed his knuckles, keeping her eyes locked on his. "Fo' _me_?"

"Rogue.." He had trailed off, guiltily. '_Maybe jus' this once_.' He tried to bargain with himself, feeling unpleasantly uneasy. With his free hand, he scratched the back of his head, "_Fine_." Remy agreed hesitantly yet sharply. "_One_ dance." To make himself clear, he added, again, "_One_."

With a pleased smile, Rogue dragged her Cajun off to the dance floor right as a new, slower song than before started to play. That was when Remy noticed the sudden change in Rogue, as her cheeks pinked up just a little and she almost looked shy as she set her hands on his shoulders, averting her gaze.

"_Cherie_, you got t' do it right if you're doin' it once." Before she could respond, he pulled her closer so that their bodies touched and placed his hands on her lower back. She bit down on her lower lip; she didn't want to step on his feet. She wasn't used to dancing so close to someone before but she found herself a little more comfortable with him than others. But she felt guilty about keeping her secret from him. At any rate, she was happy just to be able to touch someone. She started out a little clumsily but he guided her the right way.

"Fo' someone who don't like to dance, ya sure do a good job." She gave him a mischievous glance. "Did little Remy--"

"Don' even go there!" He ground out, between clenched teeth. She smirked slightly, returning just a bit to the one he was used to talking to. But she became painfully aware of how close they were and felt her cheeks begin to burn again. She felt nervous all of a sudden. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest and she was almost worried that he would hear it. The way they were swaying, the way his hands rested on her lower back, just screamed intimacy. "You all right?" His soft words broke her train of thought, and she looked up at him, almost surprised.

"I'm alive." She mumbled, moving her head in more towards the side of his face, so he wouldn't see her red cheeks. The only thing he got was a face-full of her thick, rich auburn hair. He inhaled the scene of her hair lightly, making a mental note that she used Violet scented shampoo and conditioner, and took notice in her perfume, which smelled sweet and seemed to suit her.

The song faded out, and a new song begun but they didn't break apart. They continued to dance slowly with each other, their bodies melting into each other's, their souls fusing into one, and their hearts beating at the same quick rhythm.

--

"Ugh, my feet—_ahh_." Rogue sat down on the steps leading to the hotel that had became her home this summer, and slipped off her heels and wiggled her toes. "I'm sorry, guys." She apologized to her sore feet.

Remy said nothing when he sat down next to her, pulling out a cigarette from a pack that he had in the inside pocket of his jacket. Taking out a lighter from the deep pockets of his pants, he lit the cigarette, feeling great at that given moment.

"I had a great time, Rem." Picking up her shoes by the back with one hand, she ruffled his hair with the other, smiling down at him as she stood up, "I'm headin' off to bed." Her stomach fluttered when he glanced up at her winking, and bidding her a good night.

The hotel was quiet was quiet as she walked in, realizing it was after two in the morning. After countless steps and what seems like forever and eighteen minutes she arrived at the floor of her room.

"Hey!" Quickly twirling around, she saw a tired young blonde gentleman, who looked vaguely familiar, trying to catch up with her, "Mystery Woman!" He had declared, offering her a wide, friendly smile.

"Cody." She recognized dully, her lower jaw dropping, "Haven't, uh, seen you in a while." She added strangely, taking a mental notice that she just met him once—and it wasn't that big of a deal to her.

He eyed her, up and down, "Yeah, uh, haven't been around much—at all." He stated with a sheepish shrug. "Leavin' the day after tomorrow though."

"Oh." Rogue shifted weight from one leg to the other, feeling uncomfortable. Clad in a halter-top and skirt, all she wanted to do was change into comfortable, or more concealing, clothes and go to sleep.

"Yeah, and, uh, listen. I was wonderin' if you maybe wanted to go out tomorrow night?" When she looked down, he quickly added, "Or not." Hell, he didn't even know if she was with someone or not.

But this was what she wanted, wasn't it? To actually go out with more than one guy? Remembering her summer plans, she forced a smile and nodded her head, "Sure."

His face seemed to brighten up, yet he still looked surprised, "I'll catch you tomorrow—well, if I get your name."

"Marie." Rogue spat out quickly, giving him the first name that came to mind. "The name is Marie." Sure, it wasn't her name—but she kind of liked it, and it was better than the second name she had in mind: Anna. That was just too bland for her.

After exchanging a few more words, Cody left, and once he was out of sight, she entered her room, immediately collapsing onto her bed. With a sigh, she rolled off and pulled out sleepwear clothes from her suitcase and managed to change without having to get up, or even turning on the light at that; dim lights outside would suffice. Once she finished, she crawled back into bed, under the covers, and closed her eyes.

Without notice, guilt built up in the pit of her stomach, making her eyes snap open and her body tense up. Why on earth would she feel guilty? This was how she planned her summer—not to just 'hang out' with one guy. Turning onto her side, she tightly shut her eyes and ignored her emotions, making herself think about something else—like Kitty who would probably be boarding her plane soon in New York—until she fell asleep.

--


	11. Chapter 10

--

"Thanks for picking me up on time and answering my phone calls, Rogue." Kitty sat herself in the passenger seat, slamming the car door hard. She sat with her back straight and refused to look over at her Southern friend. Impatiently, she drummed her fingers against her thigh, and after nearly four minutes of silence, she was about to burst. "_Well_?"

"Well _what_?" Rogue asked calmly, keeping her eyes on the road and her petite hands gripped the steering wheel. She bit down on her lower lip, lost in her own stubborn mind.

Kitty rolled her brown eyes, knowing how this conversation would go. With a sigh, she relaxed, resting her head against the window. Then she sighed again, this time for dramatic effect.

Rogue cleared her throat; "You're goin' to have to find somethin' to entertain yourself tonight 'cause I have a date." She looked over at Kitty from the corner of her eyes and noticed the younger female perk up.

"Really?" She asked with an ear-to-ear grin, turning to face her. "Is it with that Remy guy?" Taking after Rogue in the impatient department, she narrowed her eyes at her, waiting for more information to feed upon, "_Well_?"

"No." Rogue gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles white, "With Cody." She couldn't remember his last name—nor was she sure he even gave her it. Recognizing Kitty's confused silence, she kept talking. "I met him _before_ Remy." She spoke quickly, seeming almost irritated as if Kitty should have another known this.

"So you and Remy broke up?" The brunette asked, making a face, trying to piece everything together. After hearing about Remy, the guy who Rogue had been spending a good hunk of her free time with, she desperately wanted to meet him.

As the traffic light went from yellow to red, Rogue hit her breaks harder than intended, "No." She nearly snapped, her words strained, "We didn't break up. We weren't even a—_no_, we're not even a _we_." She winced at her words, looking frustrated. "He was just a guy." The light went green, and she didn't hesitant to ease on the gas.

Kitty lifted a brow, and licked her lips, "He was just a guy, huh? What is he now—a girl?" She seemed all too amused right now.

"Bite me, Katherine." Rogue said, taking a sharp turn. An uncomfortable silence filled the air, and the tension was so thick you could slice through it with a knife—not that it could be done.

"This is starting off great." Kitty mumbled, turning back in the opposite direction so she could gaze out the window, "Next you'll be telling me you forgot to get me a room."

"Christ!" A string of colorful language soon followed.

--

"_You_ are sleeping on the cot." Kitty sat on Rogue's bed, her legs crossed out in front of her, "I so can't believe you didn't register me a room, Rogue. Were you _that_ busy with the Cajun guy? _Ooh_, you seem to be forming a nice, _very_ light tan, by the way."

A scowling Rogue leaned against the wall, her arms loosely folded over her chest. Her head was bowed down so her hair formed a brown and white veil, shielding her face.

Kitty pursed her lips together, looking around the room, her brown eyes finally settling back on Rogue. All this silence was eating away at her, testing her patience. Finally, she slapped her hands against her thighs and stood up, "Let's go find a nice place to eat. My treat."

"Go on without me." Rogue told her, without bothering to look up.

The brunette's brow arched up. "Reject an offer for _free_ food?" She asked incredulously, "Have you no shame? Accepting free food—why that's the American way!"

"You're crazy." The Southerner declared bluntly, and with a remorseful sigh, she got out of 'Depressed Rogue™' mode and grabbed her keys, "Let's go." She told her overly excited friend as she patted her own hungry stomach.

--

Rogue and ever so peppy Kitty walked through the mall after experiencing a scrumptious lunch at a nice little diner that just so happened to be near the mall. "It's absolutely fabulous here! No wonder you were always out."

Rogue shrugged her shoulders, eyeing several shops; "I never really left hotel grounds the past few weeks." She averted her eyes when Kitty gave her a curious glance.

"Have you been following the note cards I gave you?" Kitty suddenly asked, almost suspiciously. She could easily see that Rogue was acting weird and was determined to find out what had been and what was going on—it was her job, and it wasn't an easy job but _someone_ had to do it.

Rogue became silent as she tried to remember where she had put the special note cards but failed; therefore she nodded her head, biting down on her lower lip. She had read them—most of them anyway.

Kitty rolled her eyes in disbelief but said nothing. After all, she had made up the rules on them last minute and she couldn't even really remember what the said rules were. She would just keep that information to herself. Instantly forgetting what she had been thinking about, she stopped, abruptly, to look at shoes that had caught her eye. Making a mental note to come back for the cute pink ones, she turned around, only to find Rogue nowhere in sight. "Crap."

--

"Kitty?" Rogue twirled around, looking for her friend, "Kitty?" She called louder, looking around, wondering if Kitty had been distracted by a group of good-looking guys. "Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty." She whistled, almost amused. She furrowed her brows, and started to retrace her steps, only to have someone grab her shoulder from behind. She spun around, scowling, only to have her stomach drop to the floor.

--

"Should have brought a set of communicators with me. I knew she would try to ditch me." Kitty mumbled to herself, bumping into an old woman as she stalked through the clothing department, looking for Rogue. "Sorry." She apologized to thin air minutes later, after realizing she had nearly knocked the old woman over. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks, witnessing the most Kodak moment ever—a blushing Rogue talking to a guy, and an attractive guy at that. "Oh my." Kitty grinned, making her way over.

--

"Remy." Rogue blinked, surprised, a lump formed in her throat. "Hi." Why did she feel so awkward? This guy was her friend—that's all—_a friend_, if even that. She licked her dry lips and offered him a smile with her simple greeting. With his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark colored jeans, he didn't say anything, he just smirked—and it was a smirk that made her heart skip a beat. She also took notice that he was wearing his sunglasses and that his shirt was tight---very tight.

"Surprised to see me?" He asked, gazing down at her through his sunglass-covered eyes, his smirk still in place. He could feel her power frenzy of emotions, but didn't bother looking farther into it.

"It's a big old world, sugah." She stated matter-of-factly, arching a brow at him, "How many times are we goin' to cross each other's path?"

"Must be—"

"_Well_, hello there!" And here came the interrupting Kitty. She immediately looked at Rogue, waiting for a proper introduction. She ignored the daggers that shot out from Rogue's fiery green eyes.

"Remy, this is Katherine Pryde. Katherine Pyrde, this is Remy." Fumbling on her own words, she quickly added, "LeBeau."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Katherine Pryde." The Cajun said, giving her a brief nodding of the head for recognition. Kitty calmly nodded back at him, still grinning.

Rogue coughed, "We have a busy day, and, uh, night planned." She said, speaking quickly, and earning a glance from Kitty, who was looking Remy over.

"We were going to go get some ice cream. Care to join us, Remy LeBeau? My treat."

"You sure are being generous with treats, Katherine." Rogue commented dryly, placing her hands on her hips. She looked at Remy, smiling despite the winged dinosaurs flying around into each other in her fluttery stomach, "Well? You heard the girl—her treat. Care to join, Rem?" She exhaled slowly, her body tense.

"Whoever says no to free food?" Remy joked, smirking as Rogue looped her around in his and glanced back at Kitty with a wink.

--

Kitty hummed to herself as she plopped a cherry into her mouth. Licking her lips, she picked up the tray holding three very delicious looking sundaes and walked over to the booth where Rogue and Remy sat, across from each other. Humming softly, she put a sundae in front of Rogue, and a cherry-less sundae in front of Remy. Finally, she sat down next to Rogue, picking up her lovely sundae.

Remy glanced down at his, "No cherry?"

Kitty shrugged, pulling her spoon out of the plastic wrapper that concealed it, "You can have Rogue's." Rogue choked on her mouthful of whipped cream, a bit dripped down her chin. Kitty laughed nervously, adding, "Rogue doesn't like cherries."

After that ordeal, the three mutants walked to the elevator. Rogue kissed Remy on his smooth cheek, and in return, he pulled her into him, kissing her sweet lips. She shivered in his arms, telling him that she would call him tomorrow morning.

When she got into the elevator, and the doors closed, Kitty gave Rogue a look. "You like him." She stated, almost sure of herself, "And yet you're going on a date—that's not with him—tonight? _Player-ette_!"

Rogue rolled her eyes, "I ain't playin' no one. There ain't nothin' goin' on between me an' Remy so keep your thoughts and _cherries_ to yourself," she replied dryly.

"He is one good looking Cajun." Kitty stated the well-known fact, eyeing Rogue, "If you don't want him, can I have him?"

"Kitty!"

--

_A while later_..

Remy hummed a familiar tune as he entered the hotel, planning to watch the television and sleep. He felt pleased with himself—and he felt better than he had prior to leaving New Orleans.

"LeBeau?" A blonde behind the clerk desk suddenly called out, squinting at him as he passed, "That's you, right? Remy.. LeBeau?" She asked, mispronouncing his last name.

"_Oui_—why?" He immediately tried to figure out if he knew her from somewhere but only could identify her as the front desk _fille_.

"Your brother, Henri, has been trying to contact you all day. He said it was urgent." She told him, giving him a look of sympathy, "Something to do with family." She pushed the service phone across the desk in direction of him.

Remy sucked in air as he picked up the phone, a solemn expression on his face, unaware that in less than an hour and a half, he'd be on his way out of San Diego.

--

"You look fantastic, Marie." Cody grinned at her upon their meeting outside the small diner in the hotel. His unruly blonde hair went out in all directions, and he was dressed in a Hawaiian button up shirt and shorts. Rogue had changed into a dark jean skirt and red tanktop.

"Right." Rogue mumbled as she walked down the stairs, griping the banister, not wanting to slip out of her sandals that seemed like they were out to get her. Her hair was pulled back into a lovely French braid, thanks to Kitty. Her fingernails and toenails were freshly painted and decorated with tiny white jewels, again, thanks to Kitty.

Cody held out his arm for her, "Shall we?" He asked, continuing to flash his pearly whites at her. Rogue was grateful that they were inside or an airplane might mistake the small hotel beach property as a landing runway. With hesitation she took his arm, giving him a small smile. "I think we're goin' to have an incredible night."

And boy, he couldn't have been anymore wrong.

After ordering his meal and Rogue's, without asking her what she wanted, he began the conversation with, "So, Marie, were you born like that?"

Her face deadpanned, "Like _what_?" She asked defensively.

"Your hair." He cleared his throat, pointing at her head, "Do you dip your bangs in peroxide once a month o' what? I like it though it ain't look natural."

"It _is_ natural. I was born with white an' brown hair." Rogue stated evenly, loving her multi-colored hair. Her foster mother, Irene, always told her that it made her, her own self, it was her own identity. She leaned forward, "So, Cody, were you born with blonde hair o' do you take box of blonde hair dye to it once a month?"

Cody put his hands up, chuckling, "No need to get so snappy. I was jus' curious. Sorry if I offended you, Marie." He didn't sound apologetic.

"It's all right." Rogue shrugged, not sounding like she meant it either. She did, however, sigh, knowing this would be one long night.

--

Kitty lay stretched out on the full sized bed, watching television. She was bored out of her mind, but made an agreement with Rogue—if she stayed in all night, Rogue would do whatever she wanted to do the next day. When there came a sharp knocking at the room door, Kitty sprung to her feet, "Room service. _Finally_." She pulled open the door, ready to lecture the person on getting there sooner, but her voice seemed lost when she found Remy standing there.

"I need to talk to Rogue." He told her, his expression grim. He also sounded impatient and looked down at his watch, like he was in a hurry.

"She's not here." Kitty told him, chewing on the inside of her cheek, leaning against the doorframe lazily.

He almost seemed to grimace. "Where is she? This is important, Katherine."

"Kitty." Kitty correct, immediately regretting it, "Listen, she's downstairs, uh, getting something to eat. I'll get her for you." She began to move forward but he stopped her.

"No. That's all right. I'll get her." And with those words, he left a speechless Kitty who knew more than half of her nine lives just deceased. She managed to squeak something out, to stop him, but he just kept walking.

"If they mean anything to each other, then he shouldn't care." Kitty reassured herself, remembering what Rogue had told her. Well, at least she could use it against her.

--

"Why did you move upstate? Got a lot of family up there?" Cody asked her, sipping on his iced tea.

Rogue exhaled deeply, tucking loose strands of white hair behind her ears, "Now I do." She answered with a half smile, "_Long_ story." She stared down into her own glass of iced tea, stirring the plastic straw around. Time seemed to pass unrealistically and dreadfully slow. She liked this Cody fellow; he just couldn't interest her.

"What kind of work do you do?" He asked, making a slight face, as all he was trying to do was keep the conversation going, maybe hoping to catch something that interested her.

"I work with special kids." Rogue answered, almost laughing at her answer, "By special, I mean they have special abilities." That was closer to the truth.

"Kid prodigies? Like kids who can play the piano blindfolded, with one hand tied behind them?" He smirked at his comment.

"No, kid—_teenage_ mutants. Teenagers who can move things with their minds, scream like sirens, absorb a person's life energy, persona and memories." Now, it was her who smirked, "They really are special." She laughed at the clueless look on his face. She reached over, placing her hand on his, winking.

"Rogue?"

The fine hairs on her forearms and neck stood up on edge, and her heart skipped a beat—or thirty. Holding her breath, she looked behind her shoulder, a lump formed in her throat. "Remy." She acknowledged, her voice high.

"Rogue?" Cody asked, clearing his throat, and arched a brow at her, "I thought your name was Marie."

"Un-fuckin' believable." Remy mumbled, shaking his head. How could he miss _this_? Turning around, he left without remorse—without listening to Rogue yelling his name, or even bothering to look behind him. He just kept walking until he was almost at the elevator, and felt someone grab his shoulder roughly and pull him around.

"I—" Rogue tried to explain herself, only to realize that she was, indeed, speechless for her actions. Feeling the lump in her throat swollen, her eyes began to burn with unshed tears. "I'm sorry."

He stared at her, his red eyes emotionless despite how he was feeling on the inside. "For what, Rogue?" He asked, his words in a low monotone.

"I'm a mutant!" She suddenly sputtered out, looking exasperated for a valid reason. "And I just wanted to get away.." She trailed off, knowing her words meant nothing to him. She hid too much of herself from him, behind her own selfish mask.

"Right." He said, figuring that if she was telling the truth that she would have told him already. He turned around, only to have her grab his shoulder again.

"You don't know me." She tried to keep her voice strong, not wanting to sound like she was whining. "You—_you_!"

"Sorry, it's my fault. I told you to go out with some guy." Remy rolled his eyes, not in the mood for this. "And I thought we were actually going somewhere."

"We? There never was a '_we_.' It was just you and I havin' some fun. You were jus' gettin' hopeful." She told him, timidly, her words uncertain. She looked down at the ground, averting his gaze.

"I'm leavin' in an hour." Rogue looked up at him, her eyes wide. "My brother's wife is in the hospital." He felt no need to explain anymore than he had to. "I wanted to ask you to come back with me." His words were now dull. "Good bye, Marie."

"That ain't my name."

"What is in a name?" He shrugged his shoulders, and jerked away from her when she tried to grab his shoulder again. He pressed the up button to the elevator. "Kudos to you for tryin' to get your roommate cover for you. Did you have a fun summer?" Remy asked her after the elevator doors opened, and he walked in. He just stared at her until the elevator doors closed.

"Fuck."

--

I finished this chapter on my birthday, 12/29, (because I didn't have anything better to do) and, well, I hated the last scene so I tried to re-write it and failed. I give up. Don't like, don't review, mmk? I love you all.

Happy New Year's and all that yabba jabba, peoplenadians. I'll update next in 2005! (Or 2006 seeing as how I'm getting slower and slower at updating.)


	12. Chapter Eleven

--

"I jus' want to go home." Rogue sat cross-legged on her unmade bed, her head bowed down so that her hair fell forward, creating a mask, almost. Beneath her veil of hair, her eyes remained tightly shut, closing off any emotion that screamed to be released.

Kitty was sitting on a chair in the dark room, her eyes locked on Rogue. She pitied her dear friend but for all the wrong reasons. This wasn't how she wanted things, and she vowed to help make things better. She cleared her throat, "Okay."

--

He felt empty.

It was the only word that truly expressed how he felt.

_Empty_--And unbelievably well rested.

Before boarding his plane, he constantly glanced behind his shoulder, almost as if he were paranoid. Paranoid and slightly hopeful he was. Alas, as he boarded the plane, and took his seat, the small amount of hopefulness he had been carrying slowly began to wear away. By the time the plane started to shake and took off, he was no longer hopeful, or paranoid. Just empty.

Not before long, he fell into a dreamless slumber. He woke up mere minutes before the plane was due to land, and felt more refreshed than he had prior to leaving California. It felt weird, falling asleep in California and waking up in Louisiana.

"You all right, boy?" Tante Mattie had asked him, much later that night in the privacy of their living room, noticing how distant and distracted he seemed. She studied him over, her dark eyes searching through his red orbs.

Remy glanced up at her, shrugging his shoulders. He could tell that she wanted to ask him questions about his so called vacation, but also knew she wasn't the type to pry. He cleared his throat, "How's Mercy?"

"Henri called a while 'go, said her contractions stopped." She told him with a sigh of relief. "Baby Jacques would have been over a month early if she went into labor." Mattie sighed again, looking down to concentrate on the blue baby blanket she was crocheting for the baby.

Remy sunk back into his recliner, and let his head drop back. He closed his eyes, wanting to concentrate more on the life of his second nephew than the events that took place the day before. He just could not allow himself to think about the fight, about what he saw, about what he was told, or even rejoice in the good memories; he forbid himself to think about Rogue.

'_Crap_.' Opening his eyes, he stood up quickly, the old recliner moaning from the sudden force of weight. "I need a cigarette." He mumbled, more to himself than to Mattie, who didn't even look up from her project.

Once outside, he pulled out the fresh pack of cigarettes from the deep pockets of his trench coat and lit a cigarette with a lighter he took out of the same pocket. He sat himself down on the old wooden steps and took a long drag from the cigarette.

He sat there for over an hour, smoking cigarette after cigarette. After a while, he flicked a butt into the grass and started coughing. Coughing into his hand, he picked up his pack of cigarettes, saw the remaining three, and just tossed the pack into the lawn.

Getting to his feet, Remy decided that what stays in San Diego, must stay in San Diego, much as it pained him to realize it. He walked back into his house, feeling empty once more.

--

It was nearing midnight and yet, Remy still felt restless. He sat alone in the dark kitchen, ever so often taking a swig of beer from his half empty glass bottle of beer. Even from his position in the kitchen, he could hear the jingle of keys from one room over and down the long hall. Slouching over, he closed his eyes, not bothering to look up when he heard the footsteps approaching the kitchen. When the light turned on, he heard a low, sharp gasp.

"Shit, son." Jean-Luc muttered, shooting his son a look. Henri walked up behind him, a brow raised. "Is he dead?" The elder thief asked, narrowing his eyes at Remy, who still had not moved.

"Poke 'im wit' somethin'." Henri suggested with a shrug. He walked over to the fridge, pulling out a jug of water. Taking an empty glass that sat alone on the counter, he filled it with the chilled water and downed it with an aspirin.

Jean-Luc took the courtesy of jabbing Remy in the shoulder with his index finger. "You wake?" He asked idiotically, after Remy's eyes snapped open, and he glared up at the older Acadian, his eyes glowing dimly.

Before Remy could snap out a sarcastic remark, Henri patted his shoulder while wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand, "Thanks for comin' back. I jus' thought—"

Remy pushed back in his chair, cutting him off. He stood up, wiping his palms against his thighs. "I'm goin' to bed." He snapped at him, making his way out of the room. Henri and Jean-Luc exchanged glances.

"Well, somethin' ain't right."

--

With a heavy sigh, he walked into his room, fumbling his hand against the wall to flip on the light switch. He shut the door behind him as he picked up his suitcase off the ground and opened it. Immediately, he picked up the said suitcase and brought it over to the wicker basket, which lay in the corner of the room, and dumped the clothes into the basket.

Something suddenly caught his eye—a white note card that stuck out from under a black t-shirt on top of the pile of clothes. He picked it up, only to notice the writing on one side. Where as the neat handwriting didn't look familiar, the pink, cursive writing and words did ring a bell—he remembered picking up the note card in the hallway of the hotel he had stayed in back in San Diego.

_'--And remember: Do not fall in love_.' It read. He crumbled it up and tossed it behind his shoulder, not caring for the advice written in it. Hell, it was probably a sign from the beginning and he was ignorant to it. Perhaps it was just time to forgive and forget. (Although, more focus on the 'forget' than 'forgive.')

--

He had awoken from his sleep with a jerk. Was that knocking he heard? Not taking any chances, he quickly got out of bed. Breathing hard, he walked out of the room, down the hall and the down the stairs, his footsteps heavy and loud. Unlocking the front door, he swung it open--

And saw nothing.

He leaned on the doorframe, shaking his head. Part of him expected Rogue to be standing on his porch—wanting Rogue to be standing on his porch.

Remy mentally cursed at himself. He was brooding and he felt like that showed weakness.

"What the hell is goin' on?" A gruff voice snapped from behind him. Jean-Luc walked down the chairs, forgetting about the last stair and had to grip the banister so he didn't stumble forward. "What is it?" He asked, looking out the screen door.

Remy shook his head again, his expression somber. Well, so much for forgetting. He looked up at Jean-Luc who then glanced over at him, his dark suspicious eyes locking on his.

"What?" The younger Cajun shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, resembling a little boy with the added scowl. Jean-Luc cleared his throat, obviously thinking of something to comment on without starting World War III.

"You haven't even been back for a day now and.." Absent-mindedly, Jean-Luc shoved his hands into his pockets, "You jus' seem different, son." He took out one hand to scratch the back of his head. He wanted to tell Remy to get some sleep for a job he had planned for tomorrow but couldn't risk anything until he knew what was going on.

Remy rolled his eyes and walked away, in the direction of the stairs. What was he supposed to say? The cards turned over on him? He just shrugged his shoulders, wincing slightly; a dull, thudding pain began to start up around his temples. He hated when Jean-Luc tried to act like a concerned parental unit—of which he was anything but.

"Who was she?" Jean-Luc asked bluntly, almost impatiently, his voice low.

Remy came to an abrupt stop as he placed his hand on the railing, about to move up the stairs--something was tugging at the back of his mind. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out; he was at a loss for words.

"You have th' same look on your face you had after your breakup wit' that Belladonna." His father answered the unspoken question.

"It was nothin'."

"_Non_, it was certainly somethin'."

"I met a _fille_ by callin' 'er a bitch." Remy stated simply, gripping the thin wooden railing tightly. "She called me an asshole." He said, gliding his tongue over his dry lips as he relived the memories in his head.

"And?" Jean-Luc clicked his tongue, impatiently.

"_And_ that's all." And with those words, he continued up the stairs. His words were cold and final; Jean-Luc merely shook his head. Remy chewed on the inside of his mouth, lost in his own mind now—he had the same look on his face as he had after his breakup with Belle? What exactly was that look?

Was it the look of distraught emptiness?

--

He picked up the phone slowly, concentrating on the glowing green aura of the number pad. His eyes moved from the said number pad over to a piece of paper, which had a number sprawled out on it, that laid next to the charger of the phone.

His mind screamed at him. _What the hell do you think you're doing?_ _Weak, ignorant fool! _His eyes glowed ominously as he set the phone back down on the charger quietly.

Anxiety built up within him. His careless acts of impatience and distrust turned into his own enemy. He yearned to make this phone call. It was the only thing that would be able to help him sleep at night.

Making up his mind, and swallowing up any of the pride he had left, Remy picked up the phone, and immediately dialed the digits that remained fresh in his mind. His heart seemed to beat louder than the hollow rings on the other end

--

Kitty sat on the floor of the hotel room, searching through one of her suitcases for her Walkman. "I know I put it in here." She mumbled certainly, wrinkling up her nose as she searched through clothes and other items she crammed into her bag at the last minute. When the phone let out a loud, echoing ring, she jumped up, startled, and answered, nearly breathlessly, "Hello?"

"Katherine?" Her eyes widened slightly when she recognized the husky, Cajun accented voice. She was first greeted by silence than her name, but all with hesitation. "Is Rogue there?" His words were dry, but there was some hope in his words, or so she thought.

Twirling a lock of hair around her index finger, she bit down on her lower lip, wistfully, "Sorry," She told him, sounding sincere, "Rogue felt. She's already on her plane back home."

She heard him exhale deeply into the receiver and mumbled, "All right, thanks." And then hung up without as much as another word. Kitty made a weary face as she set down the phone, wondering if she had done the right thing.

"Who was on the phone?" The bathroom door swung open and Rogue walked out. Her eyes red and slightly puffy but otherwise appeared how she normally did.

"No one." Kitty told her with a shrug, "No one."

--

That's all for now. Sorry it's short, but my mind is now blank. I do not know how to end this. Should I end the story with a clichéd ending? I was thinking about just ending it along the lines of how it's going now and writing a second part (sequel) but I just don't know. And it's driving me absolutely **mad**.

God, I suck.

I feel empty right now.


	13. Chapter 12

-

PART I 

-

_Several months later…_

-

"Your hands are cold—that must mean you have a warm heart." He took her hands in his, brushing his thumbs across her knuckles. His voice was soft, and he smiled at her, the corners of his thin lips tugging back, revealing his perfect, white teeth. His smile seemed all too perfect; showing off his dimples, which, too, seemed fit hit perfection for his handsome, round face. His hair was neatly styled, and he smelled lightly of aftershave, his face still smooth.

Rogue's cheeks felt numb as she forced a warm smile back at him. She wanted to feel happy—_really_. But she just couldn't. Their four months of dating had been pure bliss; he was perfect. Her brain and heart, however, weren't in total agreement.

His hands felt rough compared to her velvetly soft hands, but warm. His touch was caring, and gentle. He brought one of her hands to his mouth, delicately kissing it.

Knowing what was coming, she leaned forward for a kiss, meeting him half way. As soon as their lips met, Rogue felt a tingling sensation in her nose, and in just seconds, a mighty sneeze erupted from her. They both shot back, and Rogue immediately began apologizing repeatedly, her cheeks bright red.

Needless to say, that was the peak of the night.

-

Rogue tiptoed up the stairs, clutching her jacket and purse to her chest. When she got into her room, she quickly shut the door and flipped on the light switch.

"Back so soon?" Kitty was laying on an air mattress that took up most of the floor space in Rogue's room. She was clad in pink pajamas, her short brunette hair slightly messy. She squinted at Rogue, not seeming to care much that she had been awoken from her slumber.

"I think I'm allergic to him." The Southerner mumbled, dropping her jacket and purse on the floor beside her bed. She clearly was not in the mood to deal with questions.

Kitty sat up almost immediately, gaping at her. "You've been dating him for three months." She pointed out, ridiculously, wondering what Rogue found wrong with him now of all times.

Wordlessly, Rogue collapsed on her bed, yawning into her hand. She kicked off her shoes effortlessly, yawning once more. "I sneezed on him." She declared, sounding uncertain. She made a face of disgust, feeling angry with herself.

"Ew." Kitty scrunched up her nose, saying nothing else, as she sat up, rubbing her palms against the soft material on her thighs.

"Not just on him," Rogue went on with a sigh, "But _on_ his face, _as_ we kissed." Her sigh turned into a groan as she remembered him wiping his face off with a napkin, while reassuring her that it was okay. Alas, to her, it was_n't_ okay.

Kitty smoothed out her slightly tangled hair, and repeatedly said, "Ew."

Rogue shot her a look that could leave an exit wound before arching her back and pulling off her indigo sweater—she wore a thin white t-shirt under it. "It was a sign." She told the younger girl as she slid off her bed and searched through her dresser for a pair of comfortable pants. "_Ominous sign_." She hissed as she found her gray drawstring sweatpants.

Kitty laid back down as Rogue changed, her arms folded behind her head, "You said that about to guys you dated before him—I thought you'd finally found someone."

"I didn't sneeze on the guys before Mr. Perfect." Rogue rolled her eyes as she ran her hand down the light switch on the wall, making the room go pitch black. "And I don't think he's my type." That part, however, was more than true. Who wants to date a guy you don't feel comfortable around?

The springs in Rogue's bed groaned as she slipped under the covers. The cool feeling of the sheets against her feet relaxed her as she sunk in, inhaling deeply. As soon as her eyelids began to drop, and her body began to feel sleepy, Kitty's whispering voice broke her out of it.

"It's been nearly seven months," She whispered hesitantly, turning around onto her stomach, "You're not going to find and keep a guy if you're still swooning over Remy."

Rogue's eye snapped open, her body suddenly tense. "You know I'm over him." She spoke slowly, almost as if she were still trying to convince herself. "_Right_?" She strained the word, awaiting an answer.

The room got silent. The only thing that could be heard was the soft scratching sound of branches swaying across the glass window. A light rain had started, adding a soft pitter-patter sound to the branches.

Quiet minutes passed slowly. Rogue's eyes remained opened, and not before long, she could even hear the soft snoring sounds of a sleeping Kitty.

The soft rain soon began to fall harder, and lightning lit up the sky, giving Rogue's room an eerie aura.

Now feeling wide-awake, Rogue sat up, bringing her knees to her chest. She hugged them lightly, resting her chin in the gap between her knees.

"Remy.." She said, her voice as light as a falling feather. She would never admit to herself that she longed for his touch, to gaze into his demon-like eyes, to just be with him once again. She shut her eyes, letting her mind wander.

Why hadn't he called? Why hadn't _she_ called? Why didn't she go after him? Did he still think about her? Hell, it has been at least seven months; did he even remember her?

Well, it was a rather memorable vacation.

A tear escaped from her closed eyes, and soon enough, more would meet with it.

Perhaps that's what was wrong with her current boyfriend; He wasn't Remy.

-

Rogue woke up the next morning feeling as if she hadn't gotten any sleep at all. She was pleased to find her room of void of Kitty and her humongous air mattress. With lethargic movement, she pulled the covers to one side, only to be greeted by a cool draft, making her shiver.

She dragged her sock clad feet out of the room and down the hall. Next to the staircase was a table, and on it was a vase of dead flowers and a cordless phone on its charger.

The day would be long; time would move dreadfully slow for her. She knew that, and with a shaky hand, she picked up the phone, hundred of thoughts running endlessly through her mind.

If she ever wanted peace, she knew what she had to do. Clicking the 'talk' button of the phone, she listened for a dial tone, and then pressed '0.'

-

**PART II**

-

"Parentin' is a lot harder than I t'ought." Remy mumbled, washing his way through a sink-full of dishes wearing large, yellow, rubber gloves and an apron.

Tante Mattie's dark eyes twinkled as she rolled meatballs. She laughed, setting a glob of meat down on the metal pan, "Makes you think twice, huh boy?"

The backdoor flew open, and Jean-Luc walked in, the door flinging shut behind him, loudly. Remy whipped around, pointing a yellow finger at his father, a soap bubble landing on Jean-Luc's nose.

"There are babies in this house an' you're slammin' doors? Are you _that_ ignorant? _Were you raised in a barn_?"

Jean-Luc glanced over at Mattie, who chuckled, "Give him a break. He's been up all night."

The older Acadian shrugged his shoulders, grunting in response, "I'm goin' to watch th' game." On his way out, he mumbled something about needing more testosterone in the house.

Remy sighed heavily, going back to the dishes. "_Men_." He grumbled. "Don't know how you survive in this house here, Tante."

"Sounds like parentin' really changed you." Henri leaned in the doorway, and coughed into his hand. His face was sickly pale, and to put bluntly, he looked, and felt, like crap.

"_Oui_, I be parentin' after _your_ little spawns." He reminded his brother as he washed yet another bottle. "An' bein' a father ain't in my job description." He paused, dropping the bottle. Remy immediately turned around, "An' what in th' name of all that is holy are you doin' up? You an' Mercy are sick an' you bein' up an' around spreadin' your germs ain't goin' to help anyone. Get your ass back up in bed befo' I blow up somethin' an' that will _not_ be pretty!" And with the rising of his voice came the dreadful noise of a crying baby erupting from a room down the hall. "Well, I hope you're happy." He snapped, his hands on his hips. And that that, he stormed out of the room, stomping his feet.

"Is he wearin' Mercy's apron?"

Mattie sighed, "Be nice. He's been up all night." She plopped down another raw ball of meat onto the pan. The meatballs would be for dinner that night, and when she was finished, she would be making lunch. That was something a cranky Remy could not be left in charge of. "Meanin' you best not be in here when he comes back."

Henri coughed, turning on his heel, "Tell 'im I said his bra is on too tightly."

-

"I can't believe this is my household." Jean-Luc muttered, turning on the television. Using the remote, he flipped to his sports station. As he got comfortable, the phone on the end table next to him rang, and he answered it, his voice gruff, "Hello?"

The voice at the other end was hesitant, "Is, uh, Remy there?"

Hearing the light Southern twang, he thought nothing of the phone call, "Hold on a minute," Leaning back, he called out, "Remy, phone!" He put his hand over the mouth of the phone.

Henri walked out of the kitchen, on his way back up the stairs, "He's takin' care of _his_ son." He snapped loudly, practically stomping up the stairs.

"He's busy. Want to leave a number o' somethin'?" Jean-Luc asked lazily, glancing over at the paper on the table which had numbers sprawled out all over it, a few other women, too, awaiting for phone calls from their favorite Cajun.

"No, thanks." She replied quickly, sounding disappointed yet a little angry, and then she hung up, leaving Jean-Luc feeling a bit surprised.

"He must've done somethin'." He mumbled, clicking off the phone. Perhaps he'd ask him about it later. Right now, it was game time.

-

By suppertime, Remy was completely exhaustive. He collapsed on the couch, promising himself a nice, warm shower before bed. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair before picking up a sheet of paper that lay on the end table. His eyes skimmed the names. Not finding any names of importance, he crumbled up the paper, throwing it behind his shoulder.

"I hope you plan on pickin' that up." Mattie teased as she walked through the living room, wanting to turn off all the lights before she head off to bed, "Checked on the boys—they're sleepin' like little angels."

Remy grunted, "Little angels by night. Little demons by mornin'."

Mattie let out a loud, heartfelt laugh. She patted the top of his head, "I sent Jean-Luc up with Henri and Mercy's dinner. The children have been feed, bathed and put to sleep—"

"Thanks to Remy." Remy cut in.

"And now it's time for us to enjoy our meal." She waited for Remy to get up, and when he did, she patted his shoulder, "And since you've been helpin' out so much here lately, I put the extra meatball on your plate."

Dinner started out as quiet, Remy picked at his plate of spaghetti, Mattie just ate it, and Jean-Luc ate it while reading the evening paper.

"There be a reason why you insist writin' down th' name an' number of all th' people that call me?" Remy asked tentatively to Jean-Luc, who lowered his paper enough to meet Remy's gaze.

In response, he shrugged his shoulders without much though, "After a few returned phone calls they don't bother callin' back anyway. Is there a reason why you don't have the decency to return phone calls?" His words were dry, yet even.

Mattie cleared her throat as she got up from the table, setting her plate in the sink. Before she could say anything else, Remy replied, "How is it any of your business what I do?"

"A nice soundin' Southern _femme_ called you earlier. She didn't sound so pleased to hear you were busy."

_Southern woman_? Remy narrowed his eyes forward, knowing the few girls, and one guy, that constantly called him were French. In the past few months, he stopped dating all together, but some people just couldn't take a hint.

"What was 'er name?" Remy asked somberly, several thoughts swirled around in his mind all at once.

"Didn't get one." The newspaper went back up, and Jean-Luc went back to eating, "What does it matter anyway?"

Remy pushed back in his chair, "Was she the last one to call here?" He demanded to know, earning yet another helpless shrug from his father.

"Beats me."

With a heavy sigh, Remy left the room, and quickly walked into the living room, immediately picking up the phone. "Rogue?" He pondered out loud to himself. Could it have been her? After seven months? It didn't seem likely. Remy, however, always had been the one to take chances. He clicked on the phone, gradually hitting the star, six, and nine number pad.

-

**Part III**

-

"You're movin' to _Russia_?" Rogue stood in the doorway of her bedroom, staring down at Kitty, her eyes wide. She just continued to gawk at the younger mutant, wondering who she was and what she had done with the real Katherine Pryde.

Despite Rogue's reaction, Kitty couldn't help but to grin, "Not technically moving, Rogue. Piotr is going back and he asked me to go back." Kitty and Piotr had been dating for six months and it didn't occur to Rogue how serious their relationship was until now.

A small smile formed on Rogue's lips, "That's great, Kit." Regardless of her earlier reaction, her words were honest. Suddenly, she looked down, and scratched her arm, "I know this is addin' salt to the old wound, o' whatever, but I called Remy today."

Now it was time for Kitty to gape, "What?" She asked incredibly, "_Why_?" The answer dawned on her sooner than Rogue's answer, "Oh god, you never got over him." Somehow, the truth didn't surprise her as much as she wanted to. "It was more than a summer fling then."

"I just need one more chance." Rogue said, her voice soft, "But I don't think the odds are in my favor. They never really were."

Kitty just repeated Rogue's movements; she looked down and scratched her arm. "Oh." Feeling guilty sure is a nagging feeling.

"I should have realized it wasn't meant to be when he left. I just," She paused momentarily, "thought he would call." Lifting her head up, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "Guess it was my shot. I called an' he didn't call back. My loss, huh?"

There was no way Kitty could let this go. "Rogue—"

"What are you two doing standing here?" Scott Summers, their team leader who had his head shoved so far up his ass he walked funny, stalked down the hallway, "Danger room in session _now_." He pointed behind him, looking impatient.

The conversation they had been engaged in seemed lost as they switched glances before walking off to the Danger Room for their nightly training session. They had both filed papers to Xavier, saying they want off One-eye's team, but so far, no approval.

Once they were gone, Cyclops shook his head. Mumbling something about how many years until retirement, he started to walk down the hall but was stopped when Xavier merged from his office.

"Ah, Scott." With his hands in a steeple-like gesture, he stopped directly in front of the mutant, "I just tried to reach Rogue-"

"Sorry Professor, once they're in the Danger Room, they're blocked of—"

"I know, Scott. Rogue has a phone call—" It had been Scott who made the suggestion of mental blocks for anyone during a training session—they couldn't afford any distractions.

Cyclops looked down at his watch, "Session already started and it won't open until they're finished." Things sure have changed at the institute, huh?

Xavier started to wheel back, "I will tell the young man that she is unavailable at the moment. Be sure to tell Rogue." And with that, he wheeled back into his office.

After the training session, before Rogue had a change to kick in Scott's face, he told her about the phone call. She went directly to Xavier, who confirmed who called. Rogue waited for another phone call until three A.M., at which she fell asleep.

She woke up, pissed off about sucking at phone tag.

"Fate just loves bitin' me in the ass."

-

The following morning, Rogue walked into Kitty's room, which smelled of fresh paint. She was carrying the black cordless phone (having just broken things off with Mr. Perfect) but set it on Kitty's dresser and crossed her arms over her chest. She bit down on her lower lip as she watched her fellow teammate pack her bags.

"I bet you're happy to be gettin' out of Cyke's trainin' sessions." Her words seemed to echo through the silent, small room.

Kitty rolled her eyes, smiling, "I'm not going just to get out of them." She licked her lips, "Although it surely is a bonus." They both laughed, although it wasn't that funny. "Why don't you get out of here and go somewhere? Like—" Her eyes instantly lit up, "Paris! Shopping in Paris. Go sight seeing all over Europe and do hours of shopping." She seemed to get more excited with each spoken word.

Rogue shook her head, "Just have fun in Russia with your—" She just had to do this. "_Boyfriend_." She said the last word in a teasing, sing-along voice.

Kitty laughed, however, the laughter was at Rogue. How could she seem so depressed at times could get so lively at times? Rogue certainly was one of a kind. "Just think about what I said, okay?" After embracing in a hug, Kitty's smile faded, "And Rogue?" She picked up one suitcase in one hand, and the other on with her free hand. Piotr (And Wolverine, who was driving them to the airport) was waiting for her at the front of the mansion. "Remy did call." She spoke quickly when noticing Rogue's green eyes widen. "In San Diego. I'm so sorry but I just thought it would stir up conflict and didn't want you to get anymore hurt and—"

"Have a nice trip, Kitty." Rogue cut her off, raising her voice, not wanting to hear anymore. "Really." She added calmly, despite how many emotions were riled up inside. "And I think I'll take your advice."

"You're going to Paris?" Kitty asked.

Rogue took a step behind Kitty. With her hands set on her shoulders, she guided her out of the door. "Kind of." She replied with a wicked smile.

A girl has to do what a girl has to do, right? Right.

-

Part IV 

-

"Is he all right?" The following day, Remy sat in the middle of the living room, folding clothes. He just sat there, slowly folding the pile of freshly cleaned clothes in front of him. Jean-Luc and Mattie watched from the doorway.

Mattie elbowed Jean-Luc, "What did I tell you 'bout bein' nice to him?" She asked, practically hitting his nose with a newspaper.

"He's actin' like a robot. Didn't we already go through this stage six months ago?"

"He's been tryin' to get a hold of that Southern gal."

"Ah. And go far no go, I presume."

She shook her head, "Poor boy. Such a mess."

"Fo' bein' a mess he sure is tidy an' helpful 'round the house. More than he used to be." The two nodded in agreement.

Remy turned his head, raising a brow at the two. "You guys know I can hear every word you be sayin over there?"

Mattie just chuckled and went on her way, where as Jean-Luc nodded his head, "Yeah."

Remy sighed. Yes, that was his family all right. He especially was aware of that when his nephew started crying, having awaken from his nap.

-

The night seemed to pass slowly. Jean-Luc went out, and Mattie just watched a movie in her room while crocheting a blanket.

It took him forever to get Jacques to sleep; he hoped the baby wasn't coming down with anything. The baby finally lost the battle and drifted off in Remy's arms; the Cajun sat on the couch, cradling him while watching a movie on mute. It wasn't before long when Remy had fallen into a light slumber.

Hours passed when Remy was awaken with sharp knocking at the front door. Jacques immediately started to cry, as he, like his uncle, was upset to be woken up at this ungodly hour. Remy cursed as he carefully got up, setting the baby in a bassinette that had been set near the couch since he was born.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Remy stumbled over to the room, tripping over Jean-Luc's shoes on his way. Unlocking the door, he swung it open, "What the hell do you—" He stop in mid-sentence, his voice lost at the sight of Rogue standing in front of him. The only thing separating them was the screen door. "_Dieu_."

Holding her breath, Rogue took two feet back, allowing him to walk outside, onto the porch. He did as such, his eyes locked on hers. He was stuck in an array of emotions; he felt like kissing her yet at the same time slamming the door in her face.

However, Remy acted with his first thought. Grabbing her by her waist, he pulled her into him, igniting them into a heated kiss. Rogue closed her eyes, allowing herself to be absorbed into him. Regrettably, they both pulled away for air. Remy cupped her face with his hand, caressing her soft cheeks with his calloused thumbs.

And they kissed again, seeming to forgive each other in unspoken words. Even with the chilly wind and air, they both felt warm in each other's arms.

"Is your name really Rogue?" He asked breathlessly, minutes later. With one hand placed firmly at the back of her neck, he trailed the finger of his free hand down her cheek and neck, finally resting the hand on her shoulder. "Are you really a mutant?" He asked quickly, still wanting so many questions to be answered. "Why did you—"

"Yes, yes, an' I'm sorry." She told him, her eyes watery. She hugged him tightly; breaking out of the embrace he had her in, "I missed you." She whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too." He whispered back, inhaling her signature scent that he longed for. They both stood there, holding onto each other. Both finally feeling the fulfilling bond they had shared.

A healthier looking Henri, Jean-Luc (who had gotten back earlier that night, and Tante Mattie practically pushed each other just to see out the doorway.

"Does this mean we've lost the domestic Remy?" Jean-Luc asked loudly, earning yet another elbowing from Mattie.

Yes, Jean-Luc, yes it does.

-

It's finished. That's all you get. I couldn't care less of why you hated it. It's an odd chapter, I'll admit. I left Rogue's boyfriend up to you, which is why I didn't name him. The cookie jar is closed.

I accidentally.. somehow.. deleted this chapter? I suck at the internet.


End file.
